Thicker Than Blood
by Masked Rose
Summary: The Black family has its share of problems. Regulus just wants to keep his family together. Sirius just wants to get out. :: Story is complete!
1. An Heir is Born

A/N: Well, my first Harry Potter fanfic. I guess I'm expanding. We'll see how it goes. Lately I've been fascinated by the intrigues of the Family of Black so I thought I'd write this story. Hopefully you like it. If you read this, I would be very grateful for a review. And by that I mean, feel free to say whatever you thought, even if it's criticism. If I don't get criticism, I will never improve, so even if you read this and hated it, please tell me why so I can work on making it better for you and everyone else. Thanks for your interest.

SUMMARY: Ambition, love, and the desire for freedom come between the Black brothers.

Regulus Black wants to hold his family together during the turbulent years leading up to Voldemort's defeat, but his rebellious brother, Sirius, who is supposed to be the head of the family, doesn't want to cooperate. The story of the Black family told through two brothers' perspectives.

DISCLAIMER: This story is for non-commercial entertainment purposes and doesn't intend any infringement on the property of JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, or any of the involved people who own Harry Potter. Part of the inspiration for this story came while I was listening to the soundtrack to _Elisabeth_. Some of the later plot development is loosely based on those songs.

Thicker Than Blood

_They say that blood is thicker than water, and I've always believed that it's true. Surely no connection between two people is as important, lasting, or meaningful as that of family. And yet, I find myself in a position where I am forced to ask the question: Is there anything thicker than blood? What terrible emotions can inspire a mother to abandon her child? A son to rise against his father? A brother to strike down his brother? Is it ambition? Is it anger, resentment, or hate? Is it love? How did it come that the tragic events I am about to tell you came to pass? _

_My story begins before I was born. It begins with my brother, the heir to the family fortune, and the future leader of our clan. Technically, my uncle, my father's brother, is the family head. He is the eldest son of the eldest son of the eldest son, etc, of some ancient Black, and therefore the most direct descendant and the most important, by the family's reckoning. However, while he ran the family well, he did not produce a son._

_My uncle had two daughters already by the time my father, the younger brother by quite a few years, married my mother. My mother and my aunt were then expecting around the same time. It was quite a tense few months, so they say. My aunt was not as young as she used to be, and the need for an heir was great. The Black clan had suffered the curse of too many daughters—who married out—and too few sons. Also, there had been a war a few decades ago which claimed many lives. In short, the Blacks were dying out; a son was needed to carry on the name._

_My aunt gave birth to a third daughter. Two months later, my mother gave birth to a son: my brother, Sirius Black. There was much rejoicing, and, with the exception of my uncle and his family, all of the relatives were relieved. My grandfather was so relieved, he instantly transferred the title of heir to my brother._

_My father, having been the "second son" all his life, had given up hope of winning my grandfather's pleasure. My uncle had shown such promise, he had been given almost the entire inheritance and the family's support. My father had had to use his pure blood and good name alone to win his wife, and she had had to use her own fortune to support him. We resided in her house, inherited from her father, and lived off of her money. Fortunately, as the only child of an old bloodline, she'd had quite a fortune. All the same, she'd suffered at having to marry a penniless, unambitious wizard, and had put up with it only because the name of Black was old and highly respected; it had elevated her socially._

_Now, as the mother of the heir to the Black line, she saw a chance to elevate herself further. And indeed, she spared no expense insuring her position through the person of her son. In some ways, Sirius was terribly spoiled. No toy, no treat, no frivolity was too expensive for the future head of the family. On the other hand, every precaution had to be taken to ensure his safety and good upbringing. He was given the best tutors available, forced to spend hours locked in the house, studying, and forbidden to play with any children who were "unworthy" of his company. This restricted him to spending most of his childhood with his girl cousins, most of whom were quite a bit older than he, and two or three children from select "quality" families in the neighborhood._

_But now I can begin including myself in the story. My mother was so busy molding Sirius into the perfect heir, that even her pregnancy—with me—two years later couldn't distract her, and as soon as her second son was born, she committed him to the care of a nursemaid and forgot about him. I don't mean to criticize. Of course, she had her hands full with Sirius. And to be fair, I was given the same careful education. I just didn't merit as much attention. Sirius constantly had to be bundled off to family gatherings, social functions, and other educational occasions. I stayed home. Sirius had to sit for a portrait. I was too young. And so on and so forth._

_It soon became clear that Sirius had inherited most of his personal characteristics from our mother, and I from our father. Sirius was, even as a child, spoiled, bad-tempered, and stubborn. He was given to throwing his toys, pulling my hair, and pouting in the corner. Our family used to compare him to our cousin, Bellatrix—who also used to pull her siblings' hair— who had just entered Hogwarts and showed great signs of potential. Everybody had high hopes for her, and so everybody had high hopes for Sirius._

_And then everything changed. There must have been some fundamental difference between Sirius and Bellatrix, alike as they were, which, perhaps awakened by my mother's suffocating treatment of him, caused them to turn out entirely different. Little signs popped up all through his childhood. Bellatrix was strong-willed, demanding, and merciless, but she aimed to please. Far more than her even-tempered sisters, Andromeda and Narcissa, she worked to have the best grades, the highest scores, and the most commendable talents. And she positively basked in the glory of being "the best." My earliest memories of her are of when I was six or seven and she was twelve. Underaged wizards and witches are not allowed to use magic during the holidays, but my Aunt Elladora thought that was a ridiculous rule and didn't apply to old wizarding families, who were surely capable of raising their children properly. She knew the old Headmaster, Armondo Dippet, personally as well as the Minister of Magic and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she had arranged for an exception to be made in Bellatrix's case._

_At every family gathering, while Andromeda held me, and Narcissa pinched my cheeks, Bellatrix would show off her unusually developed skills to the assembled family. Everyone always praised and congratulated her. I thought, back then, she was the most amazing witch I knew. I was in full awe of her until I was at least twelve myself. Only my mother remained cold. She would take my eight-year old brother into the next room and have him recite the family tree or answer trivia questions. Perhaps this was why Sirius never seemed impressed by Bellatrix himself. Or maybe it was because she used to steal his sweets or knock over vases and blame it on him. Whatever the reason, Sirius did not take to Bellatrix the way the rest of the family did._

_So, in the end, pressured by the family to adore Bellatrix, and pressured by my mother to compete with and, ultimately, outshine her, Sirius did the only thing he could: neither. He rebelled. He annoyed the family by playing tricks, making jokes, and otherwise not taking things seriously. I was always appalled. How he could be so disrespectful as to trip people during dances, munch loudly on biscuits during grandfather's sermons, or stick his tongue out at the portraits of our ancient and noble forefathers is beyond me. Surely this is no laughing matter. He never appreciated how privileged he was, nor showed gratitude for the blessings bestowed on him by having been born into such a position. I tried to convince him to be more considerate, but to no avail. When he was nine, he stole out to the yard with my uncle's broomstick and rode it around—illegal for under-aged wizards. He used to catch and raise the spiders and Nifflers that lived in the attic and the woods nearby or snitch little magical implements belonging to my parents and experiment with them. At first, he used to include me in these activities. But mother used to demand I tell her what I was up to. She used to ask if Sirius had been rummaging in her cupboard again. How could I lie to her, my own mother? She expected me to be good and obedient, and favored me with smiles and attentions only when I was. I had to admit the truth to her—or suffer the consequences—so I did, whereupon she would march up to our room, snatch up her belongings, kill his pets, and punish him severely with chores or hexes._

_This didn't subdue him; it only made him resentful. He would look at the dead Nifflers forlornly and pout. After a while, he stopped including me in his secret undertakings. Soon, he stopped confiding in me at all. I tried to explain how upset and hurt Mama was, and that I only wanted to heal the wound between them—and besides, his Nifflers kept escaping and tearing up my things—but he didn't listen._

_The biggest turning point, however, and the real beginning of my story, happened around my eighth birthday. Sirius had just turned ten when grandfather died. There was a great funeral. Everybody had to wear solemn, black dress robes and march in a long procession following the coffin-bearers. All the distant relatives turned up, as well as many members of other ancient wizarding families, the Malfoys, the Lestranges, the Averys, to pay their respects to the old head of the Black clan._

Dec, 1970, The Black Family Tomb

My grandfather's younger brother, Alphard, was there. He took Sirius up on his knee while we were waiting for everyone to pay their respects to the coffin. Sirius had already gone. He'd had to make a very fomral show of it. Now we were waiting outside with my great uncle, the Death Chamber being too stuffy and solemn for us.

"Well, boy," Uncle Alphard said, balancing Sirius on his left knee, "You're the heir now."

"I won't inherit 'til my uncle dies," Sirius replied matter-of-factly.

"But it's of no consequence. Claudius has no sons. You'll be up soon enough. Then it'll be your duty to carry on the family name. There's precious few of us Blacks left now," Uncle Alphard mused. "Regulus, I hope you won't be a stubborn old bachelor, like me, who fails in his duty to perpetuate the line."

"Yes, sir... I mean, no sir..." I wasn't really sure what he was talking about, but I was eager to agree. Uncle Alphard laughed.

"And you, Sirius, you'll meet some nice, young girl at Hogwarts, I suppose. You're going there next year, eh?"

"Yes, sir," Sirius nodded. "But I don't know about any girls. My cousins are girls and they're no fun."

Uncle Alphard chortled again, loudly. "Your opinion may change with time," he said wisely. Sirius shrugged.

At this point, Mama appeared, followed closely by Aunt Elladora whose pale face was looking even more sickly than usual despite the powder and makeup she'd layered on.

"Well," Mama said upon spying Sirius, "How is my little heir?" She sounded more cheerful than usual and she reached out her arms to her eldest son.

Sirius remained motionless. "I won't inherit until Uncle is dead," he replied like a little Muggle automaton. Then, seeing Aunt Elladora, he added, "God forbid."

"Tut," said Mama contemptuously. "That's all changed now, Sirius. Your grandfather's will quite unexpectedly stated that you are the legal heir now, with all the duties and benefits that honorable title contains. The fortune is yours." Her triumphant grin reached from one side of her face to the other. She was seldom so pleased, and I was really glad to see her face lit so radiantly. I didn't understand what was happening or why, but if it made Mama happy, it must be good.

"Hardly unexpected," Aunt Elladora cried shrilly, "considering your recent visits to the old fool! Don't think I don't know what you've been up to, Hecuba!"

"Of course," Mama continued as though she hadn't been interrupted, "your father and I will be in control of your inheritance until you're old enough to use it responsibly."

"He was not of sound mind and body when he wrote that will," Aunt Elladora pressed on, her eyes open so wide in indignation I thought they might pop out.

"Why, Elladora," Mama said sweetly, "our dear, old father-in-law has hardly been cooling seventy-two hours. One would think you might be more respectful of his memory."

My aunt was speechless. "Well," Uncle Alphard murmured to my brother, "looks to me like you're up already, young Master Black."

"Indeed," Mama rejoined, lifting Sirius off of Uncle Alphard's knee and placing him on his own two feet. "Time to start acting like a young man instead of a little savage. Don't baby him, Uncle," she added as Uncle Alphard reached out to pat Sirius on the head.

"Well, ladies, Uncle," called a low, strong voice from the doorway and my uncle, a tall, broad-set man with narrow eyes and a black, grizzled beard appeared, followed by his three daughters. "We'd better be going or we'll be late for supper. Come along, then, Elladora."

"Claudius," my aunt cried, "You can't..." but he cut her off with a sharp, "There's nothing to be done about it, _dear._ Now come along." With a last glare at Mama, Aunt Elladora turned and followed her family to the large fire which burned in an old, stone niche at the entrance of the tomb. It was ceremoniously lit after the coffin was placed in the Death Chamber, and it would serve as a quick way home.

"Come along, then," Mama echoed as my relatives disappeared, one by one, into the flames. She motioned for Sirius and me to follow. Now, all the mourners and guests were streaming out of the Death Chamber and towards the fire. I sincerely wished we didn't have to go to the great supper at Uncle Claudius' house, but for once, I was not excluded from the activities and Mama pushed me ahead of her. I called out my uncle's address and rushed into the fire, eyes closed. I was embarrassed to admit it, but I was still a little afraid of traveling on the Floo Network. I hardly ever had the need to, and when I did, I couldn't help imagining what would happen if the powder suddenly wore off, and I were engulfed in flames.

The powder, however, did not wear off, and we all arrived safely at my uncle's house where a great feast had been prepared. The adults quickly gravitated towards the drawing room where drinks and appetizers were being served. The house was much larger than our own; it was practically a manor, and it was one of the things my uncle's family had retained from the inheritance. Sirius disappeared for an instant, reappeared with a plate of crackers and little wieners that had been speared on toothpicks, and we went, as was our custom, upstairs to the large nursery-room where my cousins had used to play as children. Here, among the faded robes, abandoned story-books, and mutilated dolls, we threw off our neckties and cuffs, settled ourselves down, and Sirius offered me the plate of food. "Have some," he said, and we began munching in silence.

All too soon the nursery door opened and Sissy slunk in. Sissy was very pretty, even at ten, and that day her golden hair had been meticulously curled and she wore the most delicate robes. She carefully made her way to our corner, making sure not to catch her hem on any of the dusty toys around her, and plucked a few crackers from our plate. "I didn't offer you any," Sirius grumbled, but he didn't try to stop her.

"Since we're in my house, these are really my crackers. Everything here belongs to me, not you." Sissy made an expansive sweeping motion with one hand while the other crammed crackers into her little, pink mouth.

Through the open door, I saw Bellatrix and Ann walking down the hall, talking. I waved, and Ann, seeing me, turned round and came in with Bellatrix at her heels. Sirius rolled his eyes and kicked me with his toe, but I saw no reason for his discourteousness.

"Well, if it isn't widdle Reggie," Bellatrix cooed, completely ignoring Sirius. "How cute he is in his widdle dwess wobes." She was always talking to everyone younger than herself in a baby voice. Sirius said it was demeaning, but I found it endearing and sisterly. Sometimes, after visiting my cousins, I wished I had sisters myself, and not just my one, moody brother.

"Congratulations, Sirius," Ann said, turning to said brother after giving me an affectionate kiss.

"Humph, yes, we were just talking about you," Bellatrix sniffed, letting her gaze fall on the unlucky Sirius. She was tall, for a girl, and although her long, shiny black hair and her ivory face made her appear serene and regal, her flashing black eyes shot sparks in the most menacing way. "You...and your mother."

"Oh, hush," Ann reprimanded quietly. "Sirius had nothing to do with that."

"If he had nothing to do with it, I don't see what we need to congratulate him about."

There was a stiff silence broken only by the crunch of Sissy shoving another cracker in her mouth.

"Oh, Sissy, you'll ruin your appetite," Ann said by way of changing the topic of conversation, and Bellatrix threw herself moodily down on a huge plush unicorn whose stuffing was coming out at every seam. Clawing her black veil out of her hair and tossing it on the ground, she cried, "the old man chose a poor time to die! Next week we have exams, and here I am wasting time with my cousins!"

It was true, Ann and Bellatrix had been pulled out of school—a rare occasion—to attend the funeral. Tomorrow they would be sent back, just in time for winter exams. Then they would come home again for the holidays.

"It's not as though he planned it," Ann sighed. "Although, I admit, it's uncommonly bad luck. I've got to graduate in the spring, and I'd rather not miss any class."

"I wouldn't be sorry to miss class," Sirius commented, sucking on a toothpick.

"Oh, what do you know?" Bellatrix threw a toy broomstick at him. She missed, and the broom hit a wooden rocking griffin which complained loudly, although no one paid it any mind. "You've never even been to Hogwarts yet. Although it wouldn't surprise me if you turned out to be a worthless slacker like your father."

"Say that again," Sirius shouted, spitting out the toothpick and jumping up, spilling the plate of crackers which had been on his lap, all over the floor.

"I said your..."

"Bellatrix!" Ann swung a stuffed owl at her sister's head and gave her a cold glare. "I'm sure Sirius will make the family proud," she added, although she didn't sound quite convinced herself.

"I don't want to go to Hogwarts," Sissy broke in, oblivious to the fight and concerned only with her own fate. "Studying sounds boring."

Personally, I was jealous of them all. I couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts, even though I was terrified of not doing well enough to please my family. "I think it'll be fun," I ventured timidly. All faces turned and focused on me.

"Oh, of course you do!" Bellatrix leapt up again and kissed me on the forehead. "Reggie'll make us proud, won't you? You'll bring home lots of House Cups for Slytherin, eh?"

Sirius snorted, which hurt my feelings. "I will," I told him heatedly. He thought just because he got all the attention, I wasn't worth noticing. "Lots and lots," I added. Bellatrix laughed and Ann patted me affectionately.

"Never mind this brute," she soothed, jerking her thumb at Sirius. "You'll get your chance, too."

"And now, Andromeda, let's bring these children down to dinner," Bellatrix said, motioning to us. She pointed at Sirius and then at the crackers on the floor. "But you, you clean that up first!"


	2. Black Christmas

_We didn't know it then, but that was the day that changed our lives. From the very moment we returned home, Mama set up a new regime. She said that, now that Sirius was the official family heir, he had to start acting like it. And according to her, clan leaders didn't jump in mud puddles, climb trees, or rumble with their brothers. She took away his Practice Broom, his wooden ogre figures, his firecrackers, and his toy Quidditch ball set. All of his playthings were collected in a great bin and burned. I begged to be allowed to inherit some of these things, but Mama accused me of wanting to save them only so that I could give them back to Sirius in secret, and Father said that Blacks don't play with hand-me-downs, not even when the previous owner was their older sibling. So it was that Sirius' leisurely life came to an end._

_She moved him out of the nursery we had, up until then, shared. He was now expected to rise at dawn and begin his studies. The children on the block, even those from the oldest families, were no longer his equals, Mama said, and he was rarely allowed to see them. Mama dressed him with conspicuous care every day and chastised him if he should soil or tear his clothes. The long hours he had previously spent lounging around the house, crawling in the attic, and playing with his numerous toys were now spent bent over textbooks or learning how to ballroom dance. The things Sirius had been able to get away with before—teasing the neighbor children, practicing magic in secret, beating me up, all things that Mama had simply excused on account of his being a Black, and therefore exempt from the tedious rules of lower society—he was no longer allowed to do, as they were not befitting of his station. If he had thought himself harassed before, Sirius now positively lamented his position of power._

_As for me, I was still allowed to lounge around the house, but I would have much preferred to be in Sirius' place. Mama was very attentive to him. She accompanied him all over the place, had the house elves, Grigorus and Kreacher, cook his favorite meals all the time, and told everyone she came across about the good fortune she had had in having a son. That Sirius, himself, was so ungrateful for all this attention, I account to his being so spoiled; Sirius was so used to being at the center of everything, that he had begun to tire of the limelight and only complained when Mama doted on him. He was so used to getting every toy or sweet that he wanted, that no treat seemed unusual or special to him anymore. Any boy would have been lucky to be in his position, with power, wealth, and constant attention to his every need. When he, therefore, found little sympathy in me, he used to get huffy and call me names. _

_A prime example of all of this came to a head only a few weeks after the funeral, at Christmas, when Sirius was just beginning to feel the effects of his new role._

Dec 25th, 1970

Number 12 Grimmauld Place

On Christmas morning I woke up early. Not because I was excited about the holiday, mind you, but rather because I was in the habit of waking up early, thanks to my mother's obnoxious routine. As usual, my new room seemed, upon waking, empty and cold. It was full of things my mother had chosen; all of my own possessions had been taken away. The first few days after the move, I had been intensely grateful to be free of Regulus' constant presence. Every morning I could wake up, in my own bed, and do whatever I pleased without fear of disturbing him or having him run tattling to Mother. About a week in, however, I noticed how alone I was and actually rather missed him.

This morning, however, I was glad he wasn't around. Now that I was the heir, the family would be celebrating the holidays at our house, or Christmas at least, and I would have precious little time to myself in the next few days. I was determined to enjoy the silence while it lasted. I lifted the shades on the windows and let a little of the early morning light shine through, just enough so that I could find my day robes and pull them on, being very careful not to wake any of the portraits. Mother had cleverly placed several portraits in the room to watch over me, much to my extreme annoyance. They would sit there all day commenting on my appearance, or the manner in which I did my work. Sometimes I threw breadcrumbs and candlewax at them, but that generally just got me into trouble. Mother would tell me that I had to show restraint and respect regarding my ancestors. She was a hypocrite. Once, my second cousin thrice-removed, Daphne Nigellus, had given my mother some "advice" about how to raise her children, and my mother had had the portrait thrown into the cellar where very large mice had chewed holes in the canvas. We heard Daphne's indignant screams for several hours, and then all was quiet.

After dressing, I tip-toed downstairs and into the kitchen to make breakfast. I was just spreading sliced bananas on top of my toast with jam when Grigorus, the house elf, began to make a fuss. He was preparing breakfast for the family while Kreacher, the other house elf, was lighting the fire. Grigorus had been my father's personal house elf, given to him for his eleventh birthday. When my father married my mother, Grigorus had come to live in the manor with them. Kreacher, on the other hand, was my mother's house elf. He had been born in this house, and in my opinion, would most likely die in this house. Grigorus was the senior house elf, as Kreacher was still quite young, and handled all of the family's main affairs, especially mine. He had almost been like a personal house elf to me, in the last few weeks more so than ever. Although I had no special love for house elves—no creature so naturally subservient can command much respect from me—I had to admit that Grigorus was a devoted servant.

Just now he was jumping up and down in agitation and saying, "Master musn't do that! Master musn't do that!" I wasn't sure if he meant I musn't make my own breakfast, or I musn't combine bananas with blueberry jam, but either way I didn't pay him much mind. I started humming a tune.

"Please, Master should let Grigorus do that for him," Grigorus continued in a whiny voice, trying to snatch my knife out of my hand.

"No thanks, Greg," I said, holding the knife above his reach. "I can do it. You wouldn't know how to do it the way I want, anyway." I went to pour some pumpkin juice in a glass.

"Grigorus would be honored to fetch the young master's juice," Girgorus cried, limping towards me; He had a bad leg from a time once when he had found it necessary to punish himself very grievously indeed. Mother refused to tell me what the exact occasion had been.

"I can get it," I sighed. I could have let the elf do everything for me, but I was feeling overwhelmed with all the attention I'd been getting—when Grigorus had surprised me the other day in the shower in order to bring me fresh bar of soap, that had really been the last straw—and I really just wanted to do it myself.

By the time I returned to my toast, a surprise was waiting for me. In his despair, Grigorus had apparently constructed two dozen very hastily-made banana and jam sandwiches for me and arranged them on a platter. At first I just stared at them. Then I laughed. "Greg, what do I want two dozen sandwiches for?" I asked, shaking my head. Picking up my original piece of toast and my glass, I moved to the table in the center of the room and began eating. I heard the sound of Grigorus dumping the sandwiches into the waste bin and then beating himself over the head with the platter. He kept saying things like, "Of course, Master doesn't want _Grigorus'_ sandwiches. Grigorus makes very bad sandwiches, Master said." After a while, the sound of the tin platter whacking against Grigorus' skull annoyed me, so I left the kitchen and snuck out into the yard.

Several inches of fluffy, white snow had fallen all around. I took it into my head to make a snowman. What I really wanted to make was a genuine, fire-breathing snowdragon. I thought it would be wonderfully ironic for a snowcreature to breath fire. But the morning chill got to me, even through my fur-lined boots and thick coat, and after a while, I gave up. As I was stomping the snow off my boots, I heard an indication that the rest of my family was waking up; my mother was yelling. Cautiously, I slipped my coat off and went into the hallway to see what the commotion was. My mother was standing there, pointing at Grigorus.

"Are you so incompetent now that you can't even make breakfast for my son, the heir to the family of Black?" she was shouting, her head thrown high and her eyes glinting like dark emeralds in their sockets. She wouldn't even let him get a word in, not that he was trying. Mostly, he was hitting his head against the tile floor. "Are you so worthless that you forget your duty and can only dissatisfy my son at every turn? What do I keep you for, you pathetic runt?"

Oblivious to Grigorus' tears and cries of self-reproach, Mother turned and grabbed an ornamental sword that was hanging on the wall above the Black coat of arms. It was ornamental, but the blade was real and sharp enough. With one vicious movement, she brought the edge down upon Grigorus' petrified neck, slicing his head clean off. Spurts of house elf blood squirted out of the remaining stump as Grigorus' torso twitched and fell forward, hitting the floor with a muffled 'thud.' His shriveled head, eyes still open wide with fear, rolled across the tile and landed a few steps away from me, leaving a slimy, red trail behind it. Mother had noticed me now, but I didn't take my eyes off of Grigorus' distorted face.

The silence was broken by the sound of gasping sobs. At last I looked up and saw Regulus, crouched halfway down the staircase. His face was pale, and his round eyes were focused unwaveringly on Grigorus' carcass. He began to burst into tears, making a whining noise in the back of his throat, with his face all screwed up in a look of terrified misery. He was only eight years old, and he'd never witnessed a house-elf beheading before.

"Hush, now, Reggie. Stop that racket," I said gently. He continued to whine.

"Oh quit that, Regulus," Mother sniffed, "It was only a house-elf. And not even a good one at that. He was getting totally incompetent. He doesn't even deserve to have his head on a plaque!"

"It was a lousy piece of toast, Mother," I replied coldly. I couldn't shake a growing sense of guilt, and I wanted desperately to place the blame on someone else. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"This time," Mother said, shaking her head. "Next time he would have been misplacing the family heirlooms, or spilling custard on the rugs. One has to stop these sorts of things in their tracks, before they get out of hand." My glare was my only reply. I couldn't keep a tear from running down my cheek, though. I didn't want to look weak in front of her, but I couldn't help it. I felt more tears welling up belatedly in my eyes. "One day you'll understand, Sirius," she continued. "One day, when you've started acting like a mature, responsible adult, and not like an emotional, silly child."

The noise had attracted Father; he came slowly down the stairs in his dressing gown and surveyed the scene. After a moment he went on into the kitchen. All he said was, "you should've waited until after the party, Hecuba. We could've used an extra hand."

Mother didn't reply. She called Kreacher in to clean up the mess. There was something perverse in watching the bent, young house-elf sweeping up the remains of his former companion and disposing of them in the waste bin. "Kreacher will not go out so disgracefully," he muttered as he worked. "Kreacher will get his head on a plaque, just like his mother."

Regulus was still hunched on the stairs in his bath robe. His eyes were red and his lower lip jutted out, trembling. An occasional sniffling sob escaped him. Eventually, my mother turned around and said harshly, "go upstairs and wash your face! And no more tears, or they'll be no presents for you!" Then she, too, went into the kitchen.

I remained standing there until long after Kreacher had scrubbed all the flecks of blood off of the walls.

I was so slow the rest of the morning I almost wasn't ready in time to greet my relatives when they arrived. Christmas was one of the biggest holidays for the family. There was always a very big party on Halloween at Uncle Claudius' manor, but most of my cousins were off at school in October, and the smaller children, such as myself, were generally left at home. Christmas was the one chance for all the family to come together. Even some distant relatives of my mother's came.

I got one of my presents early: new dress robes. As a ten-year old boy, I really could think of a lot of things I'd rather get for Christmas than dress robes, but there was no hope for it. I figured part of Mother's new regime would include the disappearance of any possible worthwhile presents.

The new robes were black with silver and green trim. The elaborately decorative collar rubbed obnoxiously against my neck. I wanted nothing more than to sneak into the kitchen, loosen my collar, and eat Christmas biscuits, but I had no such luck. There was dancing, feasting, and talking, none of which I, as the future head of the house, was exempt from. Well, I can dance quite nicely, and I've never had anything against eating, so that part went fine, even thought Uncle Claudius once paired me up to dance with Bellatrix. Everyone knows that the male is supposed to lead the dance, but Bellatrix kept trying take over. As a result, I kept stepping on the hem of her new dress robes. Well, it was her own, stupid fault, but she kept blaming me. Out of annoyance, I really did bring my boot down on her dress robes, hard, and I kept it there, too. Some of the fancy trim tore off her robes and Bellatrix got all huffy and called me names. Mother had to separate us. The upside was that no one asked me to dance with Bellatrix again.

Opening presents lacked its usual appeal that year. I have never gone for that sissy open-each-present-slowly-to-enjoy-the-moment method that Regulus uses. I tear through my gifts like any normal child. After all, who cares about all those silly bows and doo-dads? It's what's inside the box that counts! But this time, what was inside those boxes was mostly school supplies and such: more new robes, some books to read at school, a grey scarf and matching cap that even I had to admit were really nice, and a big onyx and diamond ring with the Black Family Crest on it. It was huge. Like I would ever wear something that big and heavy on my finger! But that was from my parents, so they wanted me to put it on. It was supposed to be a congratulatory gift for becoming the heir. I did get a really interesting book from Uncle Alphard about the most famous and dangerous Quidditch moves ever. And a book I got from my father about unusual curses looked sort of good, too. My father often had a bit of sympathy with me, although Regulus resembled him more. Father understood that being the heir was a hassle, and he used to try to soften my mother's decisions. When I heard him tell stories of how he and Uncle Claudius had grown up, I used to be jealous. I wish I had been the second born, too. But I wasn't. So I had to put up with all this nonsense.

The talking part came after the gift giving. That part was much more annoying. I was especially bitter when I saw Regulus and Sissy rush upstairs to the nursery to play with their new gifts.

The drawing room was full of adults, dressed in finery and sitting on the velvet-lined chairs holding drinks in their hands. Mother sat next to me, prompting me every now and then to make some intelligent comment and poking me in the back if I started slouching. At first we talked about Quidditch—Father favored the Scottish team, and Uncle Claudius hoped Russia would be allowed to play—which was interesting. Then we started talking about school as Ann would be graduating in the spring, and Sissy and I would be attending in the fall. Hogwarts was getting a new Headmaster. This was big news, indeed, to the adults at least. Bellatrix was complaining about the growing lenience in Hogwarts' Headmasters. Uncle Claudius started criticizing the wizard who was going to be taking over, Albus Dumbledore was his name, and saying that he would undoubtedly be bringing ridiculous new liberal ideas to the school. Belerma, my father's cousin mentioned how really lamentable the condition of Hogwarts had become. She said that more and more mudbloods were being accepted and tolerance of Muggles was being taught. The whole family got quite excited about this. Personally, I wondered what it would be like going to school with mudbloods. I had never really seen one close up.

Mother told me that mudbloods were filthy people and that I would do better to stay away from them. Cousin Belerma assured Mother I would be quite safe; Mudbloods never got into House Slytherin, she said, and I was sure to be protected there. The whole family, as far back as anyone could remember, had been in House Slytherin. There was no doubt I would be too. I was just a little disappointed. I wanted to find out what mudbloods were like, and whether they acted like normal wizards. Sissy had told me once that mudbloods were great, ugly people with large feet who smelled like wet dogs and who generally had trouble learning even the simplest things. I didn't believe her; she'd certainly never seen a mudblood any more than I had!

"Of course, you've heard, Claudius," Belerma continued, "there are some of us who don't intend on putting up with this anymore."

"And well we shouldn't," Uncle Claudius nodded.

"Are you speaking of Lord Voldemort?" Cousin Orion asked in a hushed voice. I had never heard of this Lord Voldemort fellow, but all the adults seemed to have. They gave quiet nods and exchanged meaningful glances. Ann shifted uncomfortably from her place by the fireplace.

"If this Lord succeeds, we shall at last see an end to the awful deterioration of the wizarding bloodlines that has been going on for the past decades." Belerma struck her fist against her armrest to emphasize her pleasure.

"Think how many problems that would solve," my mother murmured.

"I shouldn't be sorry to see the last Muggle obliterated off the face of this Earth," Aunt Elladora agreed eagerly, sipping her champagne.

"Well, now," Father broke in. "I suppose they needn't be obliterated. They would make good servants, after all," he said thoughtfully. "We will always need lesser beings to serve us, and Muggles are fairly intelligent in their own way. Their lack of magic makes them defenseless against us. If the Ministry would let us end this ridiculous façade, we could put them to use at last."

"Damn the Ministry," Cousin Orion shouted. "Those fools have been accomplishing nothing for the last hundred years. It's time we took matters into our own hands."

"Precisely," said Cousin Belerma, coming back to her point. "And Lord Voldemort is willing to do something about it. At last a man stands up who is brave enough to do what he must."

I was a little perturbed by the whole discussion. I agreed with my father. There was no reason to kill all the poor Muggles. They couldn't really help being inferior. I couldn't stop thinking about Grigorus' untimely death, and how it was all my fault. Such unnecessary killing seemed to me to be a horrible idea. It was true, Grigorus was just a house elf, and not even a very good one at that. But surely he had not deserved death, definitely not for whatever small offense my mother imagined he had committed against me. No Muggles had ever done me any harm. The thought of hundreds or thousands of them lying around on the streets, their heads chopped off like poor Grigorus', the blood running out of their stump-like necks was too much. I began to voice some of my opinions, but Aunt Elladora gave Mother and me a withering look and said that, even though I was obviously weak and slow, I ought to show a little manly conviction and pride in my heritage. Mother told me to be quiet.

"Lord Voldemort needs support if he's to do anything," Cousin Orion's wife, Ursa, argued from behind her fan, thankfully taking the attention off of me. "There are plenty of idiots who will oppose him, and one man alone can't effect a whole rebellion."

"You don't know this Voldemort," Cousin Belerma replied coolly. "Besides, I heard he's searching for supporters even as we speak. More and more wizards are quietly going over to his side. My dear Uncle-in-law has contacted Lord Voldemort's agents to talk about the situation. He told me it looks very promising. I, for one, wouldn't be against making some helpful donations to his cause. I know other families who think the same way."

Uncle Claudius had been quiet for some time. Now he sat up straighter in his chair and uncrossed his legs. His fingertips were pressed together eagerly under his chin. "We musn't let the name of Black suffer any loss of honor," he said. "I've heard things about this Voldemort myself. They say he means business. Well, I say, we've waited long enough for this chance. Let us take this opportunity to show out support to him. Through his efforts, we may be able to raise the noble bloodlines of England to their former glory. Any pureblood wizards owes it to this Voldemort to stand up and take part." My uncle leaned forward and let his voice drop. His eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened into a sly grin. "And if we support him now, our Lord is sure to remember us later, and reward us accordingly."

Several people in the room nodded solemnly at his, with similar tight smiles on their faces, and drained their glasses. Bellatrix looked extremely pleased with her father. Andromeda stood up abruptly and left the room, saying she wanted to check on the children upstairs. My father interrupted the quiet murmurs of agreement with his calm, low voice.

"It is too early," he said, with just a hint of nervousness. "For all we know, this Voldemort could be taken out tomorrow. The Ministry could ban his activities. He could turn out to be a false prophet. If we choose sides openly now, and Voldemort loses, we will be lost as well. His enemies will turn against us and we will be without friends. We can't risk opposing the Ministry!"

"You're suggesting we side with those money-grubbing asses?" Great Uncle Parzival cried, knocking over his glass in his excitement and spilling wine on the rug. My mother winced. Kreacher appeared as if out of nowhere and began, very inconspicuously, to wipe up the mess.

"No," my father replied firmly. "I'm saying we shouldn't reveal our hand just yet. Joining either side this prematurely would mean our downfall. We must wait and see which side is likely to come out victorious, then we will make our choice, when the time is right."

"When the time is right?" Uncle Claudius was almost red in the face. "You coward! You always were a good-for-nothing sneak. Have you no pride? No values? We must make a decision now, and stand up for our beliefs."

"We _must_ do nothing," Mother interrupted loudly, but calmly. "We are Blacks. We will act when we are ready."

The room was overflowing with tension. People began to break off into their own separate conversations, murmuring in low, heated tones. Arguments broke out. In the confusion, I managed to slip away and rush upstairs to the nursery. I didn't even try to hide in my own bedroom. I didn't know why, but I felt cold all over, and I wanted company, no matter whose.


	3. Family Matters

_I never knew a person who was so incapable of carrying out normal social relationships as Sirius. His moodiness, his bad temper, and his spoiled, irreverent air caused him to alienate most of the few friends he had made during his childhood. He was always getting in petty fights with our aunts and uncles over the smallest things, only because he couldn't keep his mouth shut and control his temper. Countless times I counseled him to calm down and try to see the issue from the other person's point of view, but this only incurred his wrath. He accused me of being a coward and of having no conviction._

_ The first signs of this really began appearing in 1971. Something which had happened at Christmas had obviously upset him. The family started having occasional "family meetings" at which the adults gathered and discussed important issues in private while the children were made to entertain each other upstairs. Sirius began trying to eavesdrop on these conversations, but his magical ignorance greatly hindered this, and even the few charms he had picked up in his ten years were of little help. Bellatrix, enraged at not being included in the conversations, actually agreed to help him, but they were incapable of getting along for very long periods of time. They were too similar._

July 15th, 1971

Number 12, Grimmauld Place

"Sirius, move over!"

Bellatrix's screeching whisper carried down the hallway to the doorway to the nursery where I stood, peering at my brother and cousin as they crouched at the top of the stairs, ears pressed closely to a cylindrical glass which was enchanted to transmit the sounds which entered the identical glass Bellatrix and Sirius had planted in the Sitting Room where the adults were gathered.

"Quit pushing," Sirius rasped back, tilting the glass this way and that, trying to improve the reception between the glass in his hand the one he knew must be somewhere on the other side of the wall against which the stairway was placed. "I can't hear anything when you do that."

"I can't hear anything either because your fat ear is in the way," Bellatrix hissed, cracking her skull against Sirius' in an effort to push his head away.

"Come away from there, Reggie," Ann called from inside the nursery. I turned back to her. She was sitting against an enormous plush salamander my father had brought back from a trip to Spain he had undertaken in the spring for the Ministry. When you sat on its back, blue flames spurted out of its mouth. Not real flames, mind you, or the nursery would have caught fire. They were just harmless blue sparks, like exploding blue flowers. I loved it. Sirius had laughed at it and said snobbily that fire was red. Mamma had smacked him and said that really hot flames were blue, or even white, and that Sirius would know that if he ever paid attention to his studies. Sirius had taken offense, but really, he had gotten what he deserved after all.

Ann stretched out her arms to me and I gratefully came and sat in her lap. The sudden addition of weight against the salamander's stomach caused it to belch out little curling sparks and I grinned. "It's a pretty toy," Ann said distractedly, but she wasn't really looking at it; she was staring off into the distance. She had been very quiet ever since coming home for the holidays. Now that she was graduated from Hogwarts, Aunt Elladora talked all the time about the job she was setting up for Ann as a researcher at the Ministry through her connections. Ann never talked about it.

A shriek reached us from the hallway, and then a thump, and suddenly Sirius appeared in the doorway, scowling, and kicked at the little army of toy giants I had set up on the nursery floor. Fat, little figures went sprawling all across the room.

"I hate her," my brother muttered darkly, crossing his arms against his chest and putting on his best haughty pout. He crushed a prostate giant under his foot, snapping off its toy spear with the heel of his shoe.

"Don't say that. It's mean." Ann said reproachfully as I whined in protest at his rough treatment of my toys. Just because Mamma had taken all of his away didn't mean he ought to take his anger out on me.

"I don't care," Sirius spat. "I hate her. _She's_ mean."

Ann sighed and rubbed a hand absently though my hair. It felt good so I leaned back and curled up against her. Suddenly there was a noise outside, something like an owl's screech.

"Mercury," I said and looked towards the hallway. Somewhere down the hall was my parents' room where our owl, Mercury, slept. Ann stiffened under me.

She said, "Why don't you boys go check on Mercury?"

"Because that didn't sound like it was coming from the master bedroom," Sirius replied coolly from the doorway, even as I got up to see to our bird. The noise repeated itself. "It sounded like it was coming from outside."

Ann stood quickly, steadying herself on a writing desk, and went to the window. "There's nothing there," she said. "You'd better go check on Mercury just in case."

"Why don't you go check on Mercury yourself," Sirius retorted, and he put out his hand to block my way when I tried to push past him and into the hallway.

"Let me through, Sirius," I frowned, and tried to duck under his arm, but he put out his foot and tripped me.

"Sirius, don't you talk back like that," Ann snapped. "Your parents put me in charge…"

"_I'm_ the head of the family," Sirius answered snootily, which was a big lie, because I knew as well as he did that he didn't care about being the head of the family. He had, however, developed a very unpleasant habit since Christmas of flashing his stupid title all over the place whenever he wanted something.

"Who cares," I said, picking myself up and shoving him from behind. He made as if to wrestle me and I shrieked and ran away. Sirius was bigger than me and stronger, and he showed no mercy during wrestling matches. I rushed to Ann's side and hid behind her skirts.

The owl screech repeated itself, and from my new vantage point beside the window, it did, indeed, seem to be coming from outside. Curiously, I began to peer over the window sill. Ann started to lead me away, but as soon as her attention was turned, Sirius ran past us both and threw open the pane. He stuck his head all the way out the window before Ann could protest and then, pulling it back inside, he crowed triumphantly, "Ann, there's a _man_ on the lawn! I think he thinks he's an owl, though! Somebody had better go down and straighten him out!"

"I'll do it," Ann hissed. But instead of going down the stairs the usual way, she apparated out with a 'pop.'

"She's outside," Sirius whispered to me conspiratorially, leaning over the sill. "She's wal…_he's kissing her_!" Sirius gave a sudden squeal and clapped his hands to his mouth to suppress his laughter. I gave a start and ran to the window to see. Ann was indeed clasped to a strange man in the sort of embrace I had only ever seen shared between mummies and daddies. The implications seemed enormous.

"Is Ann a mum?" I gasped.

"No, you git," Sirius snapped, but with merriment in his voice. "She _loves_ him." He thrust the window pane down. "Come on," he said, motioning to me, and rushed out the nursery door. I was elated that he had invited me to accompany him and followed on his heels. We ran down the hallway, with a few furtive glances back at Bellatrix who was still crouched at the top of the main stairs, to the back stairs, the ones reserved for the servants' use. We clambered down them and out the servants' door at the back of the kitchens. Then, around the side of the house and to the bushes that lines the wall under the nursery window.

Ann was still in the arms of the stranger, a tall, lanky young man with arms and legs that seemed much too long for his body and which flopped about uselessly when he moved so that he looked to me like he was made out of pudding. They had moved behind a big tree, hidden from the nursery window's view, as if they thought this was really going to protect them from prying eyes.

The man was saying "...giving up so easily" and Ann was looking off at the neighbor's house with sad eyes. He went on: "I don't care what your family thinks." When she remained silent a moment, he added stuffily, "although apparently you do."

"Don't say that," Ann cried, burying her face in his chest. Sirius pressed his hands to his mouth beside me and giggled. His laughter was infectious. I pressed my hands to my mouth too, in imitation of him.

"Don't take the job, Ann," the man pressed on. He had a funny accent. I could tell he didn't come from our part of London, or any of the surrounding areas. "They'll send you far away. You know they will!" He was starting to sound angry. "Listen, I've got a job lined up. Sure, it won't bring in a lot, but it's a start."

"They're my family, Ted," Ann replied weakly. "I'll never see them again."

At this, I began to get worried. I didn't understand any of this, but I didn't like what Ann was saying. I hoped she wasn't going to go away. I got up to ask her, but Sirius caught the edge of my shirt and held me back. "Don't, stupid," he hissed.

"If they really loved you," the man, Ted, muttered, "they wouldn't put this kind of pressure on you." There was a silence. "Things are getting worse," he insisted at last. "This dark lord, whatever they call him, he's gaining support. The situation is _not_ going to improve. Your parents will only hate me more with time. We have to act now or never." There was another silence and then Ted whispered, "I'm sorry."

Ann turned her big, drooping eyes to him and whispered, "I love you."

This was too much for Sirius. He burst out laughing and practically fell out of his hiding place with mirth. Ann shrieked and whirled around. I laughed too, without understanding what was so funny, because I didn't want to be left out.

"You two!" Ann shot fiery glares in our directions, but this, as usual, did nothing to discourage Sirius.

He chanted:

"Ann and Ted can feel a spark.

Took a potion in the dark.

Owls' brains and lizards' piss.

Drink it up and kiss, kiss, kiss!"

"Sirius!" Ann was appalled, and red as a turnip I might add. "That is a vulgar rhyme!"

Ted, on the other hand, while just as red, laughed a little. "Who are these fellows," he asked. "Your cousins?" Maybe he thought we hadn't heard his mean remarks about Ann leaving her family forever, because he acted like we ought to be his best mates. He tried to reach out the pat me on the head, but I ducked out of the way.

"Yes," Ann replied tightly.

"Ann, are you in _loooove_?" Sirius puckered up his lips and smooched his own hand passionately. "Are you gonna run away forever?"

"Ann, don't leave us!" I cried, remembering my earlier fear.

Tears filled Ann's dark eyes and she knelt down beside me. "Oh, Merlin, darlings. I… I don't want to leave you." She hugged me, and suddenly I started crying, too.

Ted came up behind her and tried to hold her shoulders, but she shrugged him off. "Ted, it's dangerous. You can't stay here. Don't you know what they're discussing in there…" She nodded towards the house and shuddered. "Listen, dear, I'll come to see you later. Next week." She was speaking rapidly and in a high voice. "Come down to London. Trafalger Square. By the fountain. We'll talk."

"I can't stand being without you," Ted said warmly, and kissed her neck. Sirius giggled. Ann blushed.

"Go!" she muttered. Then, catching me up in her arms, she carried me back towards the house. "Come along, Sirius," she said. Sirius tagged along behind us. Every now and then he turned around and blew kisses at Ted until, with a 'pop,' Ted was gone.

Back in the nursery, Ann stood stiffly by the window and eyed Sirius. "You mustn't speak about this. To _anyone_. I'm not joking," she added as Sirius began to kiss his hand.

He sniffed haughtily. "Who would I tell? Bellatrix?" He wrinkled up his nose in disgust. "Icky, slimy Bella…"

"You worm," came a voice from the doorway, and Bellatrix came in. Her ebony hair was bound up in an elaborate bun, pulled away from her face, and making her look much older than she really was. Her sneering expression furthered the effect. She brandished the glass. "Of course, I needn't tell you that your father is a worthless coward. By this time, the whole family knows it."

"Hag!" Sirius exclaimed. "Take it back!"

This was more posing in my opinion. Sirius never stood up for family members unless he felt he, himself, was being indirectly insulted. Bellatrix turned red. "The only hag in this household is the one who birthed you, you little…"

Sirius leapt forward before Ann could hold him back. He tried to push her, but she clawed at his face with her long, painted nails. Clutching at a red welt that appeared above his nose, my older brother landed my cousin a punch right on the jaw. I screamed. I hated them both for fighting. I knew they were fighting about dumb things our parents said, about the stupid birthright and Sirius' title. I hated Bellatrix for saying those things about my father, and I hated Sirius for only thinking about himself and not trying to help our parents out, except with his constant fighting, which only upset them more. I screamed and screamed.

"You…you son of a Muggle!" Bellatrix cried, reeling from the blow. Her lip was bleeding. Sirius cringed, visibly taken aback. I was shocked. Son of a Muggle was just about the worst and dirtiest insult I had ever heard. I wasn't even allowed to say it. I couldn't believe Bellatrix would say something like that, especially to her own cousin!

There was a horrible silence which was finally broken by Sirius' voice. His eyes were flashing, but his voice remained calm and slightly ironic. "You oughtn't to insult my Mother. I don't think she'd appreciate being called a Muggle."

"Shut up, both of you," Ann screamed suddenly, shocking all of us. And with one quick movement, she stepped forward and slapped Bellatrix straight across the face. Bellatrix's mouth hung open dumbly and the sound of the slap echoed in the room long after Ann had run out into the hallway and disappeared.


	4. Such Sweet Sorrow

_Andromeda didn't come over on any more visits to our house. Aunt Elladora said she didn't feel well. Mother always made sympathetic comments to Aunt Elladora's face, but snide remarks behind her back. I didn't have a lot of time to think about the implications of Andromeda's "illness." I saw her only once the whole rest of the summer, and that was to say good-bye to Sirius before he left for Hogwarts. _

_Sirius and Narcissa went to Diagon Alley together to get wands. They went at the beginning of August to avoid the rush—Mother and Father didn't want to be around "all those pathetic families with their dirty children" who would be scrounging around the stores just before school started. I was incredibly jealous. Rows and rows of shops stood before me, offering me wands and robes, books, sweets, brooms, and dozens of other rarities and treats. _

_All of my earlier fears were forgotten and I longed to go to Hogwarts too. Father told me all about House Slytherin where he had lived, about the lordly common rooms in the dungeons of the castle with their beautiful black, stone walls and the silver draperies. Mother told us about our ancestor, Phineas Nigellus, who had been Headmaster at Hogwarts, a real honor! I wished I could be Headmaster one day and lord over the whole school, though I didn't even know what Hogwarts looked like. I knew Phineas. He had a portrait in one of the bedrooms, and although he was almost never in it, sometimes he used to come by; there was a portrait of one of his nieces in the dining room that he liked to visit. Phineas used to say that I was a little tadpole that wanted fattening up. He used to say that Sirius was a sour little brat._

_I stared at Sirius' wand with unequalled admiration. I even helped him sneak a peek at it a few days later—it was immediately taken away from him after the purchase and hidden in a cupboard until it was time for him to leave. He tried to cast a curse with it and Father took it away again and locked it up good this time. But nothing could stop our mutual awe at the thought of wands. We even got to talking a bit. Sirius admitted to me that he was a little scared to go away, but excited too. He told me about his worries where the family honor was concerned and how tired he was of having everyone expecting him to carry on the tradition. As the day approached, I grew despondent. I didn't want my brother to leave. Sirius was my only real companion. I had almost no friends, we had only the owl, Mercury, as a pet, and a black cat named Bath who only fancied my mother and used to scratch anyone else who came near her and spent most of her time under my mother's bed. She was already old and fat by the time I was six and she was dead before I went to Hogwarts._

_At the same time, I felt that Sirius was incredibly ungrateful for all his opportunities. Didn't he realize how much I would love to get the chance to go to Hogwarts, to be heir to the family, to have everyone look up to me? He pushed everyone away with his behavior, and then he expected us to pity him for it. I didn't know what to say to him, so I just listened silently, and that seemed to suit him fine._

_The only comfort I had was the hope that, in the absence of Sirius, Mother would pay me more attention. As it was, in the days leading up to Sirius' departure, she spent every minute of her time preparing him for his education._

Aug 31st, 1971

Number 12, Grimmauld Place

I sat very sullenly on the edge of my bed while Mother packed things into my trunks. Tomorrow I would be riding the Hogwarts Express on the way to my first year at school. Tonight, Mother was preparing my luggage, placing it all into several trunks bearing the name "Master S. Black." I got them as a gift from my great uncle.

"I can do that myself," I said, watching Mother discard certain of my books as "childish" and "unnecessary." They were the same books which I would have made certain to pack first.

"I think it's better if I do it," she responded without even looking at me.

"They're _my_ things," I declared hotly. "And it's _my_ life. Maybe I wanted that," I said as she threw a charmed breath mint tin into the waste bin. It didn't have any breath mints in it anymore, but the lid was covered with psychedelic colors and patterns which swirled and changed with the room temperature. One of my friends had given it to me a few years ago. He wasn't going to Hogwarts because his parents were protesting the new Headmaster, Headmaster Dumbledore, and I hardly saw him anymore.

"It was trash. It didn't _do_ anything," Mother replied flippantly.

"But I liked it," I muttered. I kicked my heels against the foot of the bed as she tossed out a bottle of color-changing ink. The ink continuously changed colors even after it had been applied to parchment. In made things a little hard to read, admittedly, but it was totally cool. "That…" I began.

"Hogwarts does not allow this sort of nonsense, I am sure." Mother waved her hand irritably. "And it made things impossible to read. Stop kicking."

I let my legs drum to a halt.

Mother packed the grey cap and scarf I had gotten for Christmas. "Don't forget to keep warm," she said absently. I didn't reply. She packed all the robes I had gotten for Christmas, too, which lay untouched in a corner of my closet. Then she went back to my dresser and picked up my signet ring, equally forgotten.

She moved the ring towards my hand as though to slip in on my finger, but I batted the ring away, letting it drop to the wooden floorboards below. "It's heavy," I muttered.

"You ought to be proud to wear it," Mother scolded. "It represents your family: hundreds of generations of pure, honorable wizards." I knew what she meant. There was a huge tapestry hanging in the house with our whole family line traced out in a sprawling tree. "Wear it for their sake."

"Why do I always have to do everything for the family?" I asked sourly. "Why can't I do things for _me_ sometimes? How come I never get to do what _I_ want?"

"Oh, Sirius," she sighed, and for the first time in my life I thought my mother looked tired and old. Slowly, she sat down on the edge of my bed and looked me in the eye. "Sirius, sometimes we have to work hard to get what we want, even though it may seem unpleasant at the time…"

"This _isn't_ what _I_ want," I reminded her. "I never asked to be the heir. This is what _you_ want. Bellatrix said you were always jealous of Aunt Elladora and you're getting your revenge through me."

Mother turned very pale and set her mouth in a grim line. "Bellatrix is a clever young witch. But she doesn't know everything," she said coldly. "And if she thinks Elladora isn't using her for her own purposes, she's gravely mistaken."

"Mother, please listen," I began after taking a long breath. "I don't want all this responsibility. Let Bellatrix have it if she wants it so badly…"

This was the wrong thing to say. "No!" My mother screeched as though I had just stuck her with a needle. "_You_ were born to be the heir. Do you think I did all I've done for you so you could just waste your life away like your father?" I'd never heard her openly accuse Father like that. Sometimes she made snide remarks, but mostly she seemed content. I was a little surprised. "I have fought to get where I am, and I have fought to get you to where you are. I've made certain you had everything you needed to become the greatest wizard this country has seen in decades." She was getting quite excited, she had even grasped my hand and she was squeezing it tightly between her own. "My own son has the chance to become the head of the Black Family, to have all the power and wealth he wants, my little Sirius! And I'll be damned before I let him throw it all away! No, Sirius! You will be great someday. I will _make_ you great."

She was frightening me. Her eyes had grown round and wide and she seemed to be staring at me as though she wanted to see right through my skin and muscle and bone and straight into my soul. I was shaking my head throughout her speech and trying to pull my hand away, but she was holding it so tightly.

"I…I don't want to," I whispered, but Mother took my head in her hands, her palms pressed against my cheeks.

"You must, Sirius. You will."

I thought about Christmas, and the discussion about the Muggles and the mudbloods and all the senseless killing. I thought about Grigorus who died over a piece of toast and didn't get his head on a plaque. I thought of the wall lined with house-elf heads. I didn't want to be the master of all of this. I was scared. I wanted to do broom racing, and chase Regulus around the park, and learn how to turn an ink bottle into a tortoise.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Father and Regulus standing in the doorway. They had probably been attracted by the commotion. Regulus was staring at me with his big, questioning eyes.

"Regulus," I cried. My father had his hand on Regulus' shoulder. I looked up at him. I remembered how he had sometimes been sympathetic and stood up for me. "Father, help me." I struggled out of Mother's grip. "I don't want to do this. Please. I don't want any of this."

"He's worried about going to school," Mother said. She had grown calm again, and her voice was cool and hard as usual. She looked straight at Father. "It's normal for a young boy to be scared of something new."

"Of course, Sirius," Father said. "It's normal to be scared. But you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried about school," I protested. "Can't you see the way she pushes me around? She's trying to make me…"

Mother placed a restraining arm on my shoulder as I tried to get off the bed. "That's enough, Sirius. These hysterics do not suit you. Leave him to me, Alonso. I'll sort him out." She said to my father.

Father merely shrugged. I looked to Regulus. He was half cowering behind Father. "Reggie," I pleaded. "Don't go. Talk to Mother. Explain how I feel. She won't listen to me. Please, Reggie, I need your help."

Regulus came forward. He kept looking at the rug, but he opened his mouth and began to speak. Mother cut him off right away. "I _said_ I would take care of Sirius. You two go on and get ready to go. We're leaving bright and early." Her voice was authoritative. She stared hard at Father until he stepped forward and put his arm around Regulus. He started to lead Regulus away.

"Please, you guys," I called after them. "You're turning your backs on me. Regulus!"

Regulus turned around again and looked at me, but Father said calmly, "We're not turning our backs on you, Sirius. But it would be better for everyone if you listened to your mother." So saying, he walked on. Regulus gave me a last shrug. Then he too turned and walked away.

Mother closed the door after them with a flick of her wand. "They left me," I murmured and fell back down onto the bed, but Mother shook her head and bent over to pick up the ring from where I had let it fall. She held up the ring in the light for a moment, admiring the way the shimmering rays glanced off the dark stone. Then she produced a thin, silver chain and slid the ring onto it.

"They're being sensible," she said. Now she was quiet and tired again. She pulled me forward and lifted the chain over my head and around my neck. "You don't have to wear it on your finger if you don't want to," she sighed. "But keep it close to you. This is your family. Remember that, Sirius." She straightened me up again, tucked the ring under my shirt collar, and put her hand against my cheek. "I'm not your enemy, Sirius. I'm trying to raise you to be the best that you can be. You are the hope of the family. Make us proud."

She leant forward and kissed me on the cheek. Then she closed my suitcase, levitated it with her wand, and took it with her to the doorway. "Go to sleep now. Tomorrow is a busy day. Knox."

The light went out and I was left to think of my Father and Regulus' betrayal in the dark.


	5. Old School

_The morning of September 1st, Sirius didn't talk to me. Even saying goodbye to me was too much for him to manage. The only words he aimed in my direction were words of ridicule or contempt, and even then he wouldn't address to me directly. I tried to explain that I had had no choice, but he wouldn't listen. He never listened. His pride was too great to ever admit he had been wrong._

_Sirius was sent off to school with great fuss and commotion. Everyone wished him luck, although no one but Father and I went to the station to see him off. The rest of the family wanted to avoid being around so many Muggles. Mama kissed him repeatedly on the forehead and told him to make her proud. Uncle Claudius told Sirius and Narcissa to sit together on the train. Everything went off well._

_And then the letter came. Narcissa sent her letter first, almost immediately. Sirius' arrived the next day. By that time, Aunt Elladora had already spread the news all around the family. Everyone awaited Sirius' letter with tense anticipation, hoping for an explanation, a promise of action. We were all disappointed; Sirius' letter was very short. It read:_

Dear Mum, Dad,

Have been sorted into Gryffindor. Funny, what?

Love,

Sirius

_Father was shocked. Mama was furious. Aunt Elladora was delighted. She kept coming over to "console" the family, but even I wasn't fooled into believing in her sincerity. She couldn't stop grinning. The scandal was widespread. All of the distant family kept sending owls or stopping over to see if it was true. It had never happened before that a Black was sorted into Gryffindor. Not a true Black. Not a pure Black. And certainly not the head of the clan!_

Sept. 1st, 1971

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Gryffindor!"

For a long moment I just sat there, contemplating what the Sorting Hat had said to me, wondering if I had heard correctly. There must have been some sort of mistake. I was not meant to be sorted into Gryffindor. The Hat must be wrong. Uncle Claudius had said that Gryffindor was where all the dirty, uneducated Mudbloods ended up. That was definitely not the House for me. Even as I thought this, I got the distinct impression the Hat was laughing at me.

My reverie was interrupted when the sour-faced head of Gryffindor House herself pulled the Hat off my head. "You have been sorted, Mr. Black," she said stiffly, but I noticed one of her pencil-thin eyebrows was arched and the faintest hint of a smile played about her lips. She even looked a bit bemused, or at least pleasantly surprised.

All the same, I felt my face fill up with blood. I knew I must be blushing like a beet, and I could hardly bring myself to look at the Gryffindor table as I approached it. The usual cheering had died down and given way to laughter and whispering, mostly, I guess, due to the fact that I had remained seated after being sorted with the Hat on my head like a bloody idiot. But I also caught snippets of conversation involving the words "Black" and "Slytherin." I guess the students in Gryffindor must have been just as confused as I was. Sure, there was no guarantee for getting into any House, even if your whole family had been in it, all the way back to the ancients, but there was an unspoken understanding that _some_ families remained pure, no matter what. The Blacks were just such a family. And as such, _I_ was an inexplicable phenomenon.

I hastily took a seat at the empty end of the Gryffindor table and stared at the place setting in front of me. The Sorting Ceremony went on and I was grateful for the noise that once again filled the Great Hall. I was counting the number of ridges on my finely-crafted porcelain plate when someone poked me roughly on the shoulder. Looking up, I saw a young Gryffindor—he must have been a second or third year—raising an eyebrow at me.

"There's someone over in Slytherin wants your attention," he said jovially, as though it was some kind of great inside joke that I was wanted by a Slytherin. Even more mortified, I glanced around and caught sight of Narcissa; she was crouching backwards on her seat and waving to me while Bellatrix—seated next to her—smirked. An older student, a boy with hair so blond it was almost white, was whispering something in Bellatrix's ear. I tried to sink lower onto the bench as though that would make me invisible, but Sissy, having met my gaze, only waved harder and called out, "What are you doing?" across the whole Great Hall, as though my having been sorted into Gryffindor was some big joke which I had organized in order to confuse her.

Several Gryffindors snickered. Everyone nearby was looking at me. One big boy with close-cropped hair sitting across the table from me scowled and said: "What do you want here, Black? Why aren't you with your own people?"

I rather resented the implication that Bellatrix and her posse, or any of the Slytherins, were "my people," especially as I felt that I was equally unwanted over there, but on the other hand, they _were_ my family. "I…I don't…" I started, but I felt uncommonly small and insignificant next to all those older boys and girls, Gryffindors no less. Some of them were probably Mudbloods. I looked up curiously to see if any of them had facial hair like monkeys, but all I saw was a sea of frowns and knit eyebrows.

"I know who you are," the broad-shouldered boy continued, which surprised me as I had surely never met him before in my life. I would have remembered; he actually did look a little like a monkey, though without the facial hair. "Don't try anything."

Some other students nodded in agreement. Most of them seemed to have forgotten me; they were focusing once again on the Sorting Ceremony which had added several more first-years to Gryffindor's ranks, filling up the seats next to me. I looked back down at my plate and wished, oddly, that I _were_ sitting with the Slytherins. At least then I would be with people I knew how to handle. I wished even more that Ann had not graduated. I know she would have cleared me a spot at her side and asked me to sit down. She would have straightened my cap and smiled fondly at me and told me how proud she was that I was in Slytherin. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and to my great horror, one of them slid down my hot cheek. _Blacks don't cry_, I told myself angrily, but that only caused several more tears to spill over.

Headmaster Dumbledore gave a speech, but I hardly listened. What did my Hogwarts career matter? I was hoping to wake up and find myself at home, asleep in my bed, with my mother shaking me and telling me harshly to get up, to discover that it was all just a bad dream.

I didn't speak to anyone all through the meal; I barely ate. Afterwards, a Gryffindor prefect, an older girl with a badge, lead everyone at the table to the dormitories. I saw Narcissa briefly on the way out of the Hall. She said, "what are you going to do?"

"About what?" was my moody response.

"About…you know…being in Gryffindor!" Her eyes were big and round in her pretty face. "Why don't you come with us?"

"You can't just switch Houses," I retorted.

She shook her head lamely at me. "But you can't stay there…"

"I'll do what I want to do!" I shouted, out of pure contrariness. I hated being told what to do, especially by my cousins, who had no right to boss me around. I _was_ head of the house, after all, even if I didn't like it.

"Mr. Black," a cool, dry voice cut through our conversation, and I felt a long shadow fall across the floor in front of me. Sissy got bug-eyed and ran away towards the rapidly receding group of Slytherin first-years who were trudging down to the dungeons. I turned around. The tall, sharp-nosed Gryffindor prefect was standing behind me, staring down. The entire class of Gryffindor first-years was standing behind her, whispering or exchanging glances with each other. I wanted to die.

A little while later I was curled up on my new bed in Gryffindor Tower. All the rest of the first-years were down in the common room, socializing and exchanging excited tales of their train ride. Not wanting to answer any more questions about why I wasn't with my family or what I thought about being in Gryffindor, I sulkily pulled my robes off so I could get ready for bed. As I unbuttoned my shirt, I became aware of something cold and hard against my skin; it was the signet ring, on its chain, still hanging about my neck where Mother had fastened it.

I took the ring in my fist and looked down at it. The chain was long enough that I could just hold it out in front of my chin. The big, black stone glinted dully in the candlelight and the curving spirals of the "B" etched into it caught the light. B for Black.

That big, heavy ring on my palm represented my Mother. It represented family and duty and honor. It represented being the heir and doing the right thing. The only thing it didn't represent was me. Slowly, I undid the clasp—with a little difficulty since I had no mirror to help me see what I was doing—and removed the chain from around my neck. I let the chain, ring and all, fall onto my crimson pillow—crimson for Gryffindor. I felt like a great burden had been lifted. I had never once considered what might happen if I _didn't_ get into Slytherin. I had never imagined that other possibilities lay open to me besides the ones my mother had dictated to me all my life.

Being sorted into Gryffindor had shaken my world, and all of her carefully built plans collapsed as one. I looked back on my conversation with Sissy and realized something important: I _could_ do whatever I wanted. Mother was _not _here, and she couldn't change anything. Instead, everything about this incredible castle with its ever-changing staircases and enchanted ceilings and talking hats was unpredictable and exciting. Here, one didn't have to be well-behaved and conventional and submissive. And here, I knew, I would finally be free to pursue my own life. If Mother thought she could bind me to her with this stupid ring and chain, she was wrong! Gleefully, almost maliciously, I grabbed the ring, opened my trunk, and thrust the bejeweled monstrosity as deep into the depths of the trunk as I could.

As I brought my empty hand back up, it brushed against a package of chocolate frogs my father had given me as a going-away present. I had forgotten about them or else I would have eaten them on the train. Just as I had returned to my bed with my pajamas and my chocolate, and was shoving the first struggling, kicking frog into my mouth, another first year boy clattered up the stairs and into the room. Slightly out of breath, he paused in the middle of the room and pushed his round glasses further up his nose. His big eyes squinted at me through the thick panes of glass as he eyed the brown frog leg sticking out of my mouth. I pushed the rest of the frog into my mouth self-consciously.

I chewed in silence. "Can I have one," he asked after a moment, eyeing the heap of little blue cartons on my bed. It was bad manners to ask for other people's food like that, Mother used to scold me terribly when I was little for just such behavior. I gave him a skeptical look. He hadn't even said "please."

"I've got some really good cards," he continued, unabashedly, nodding at the card of Cob the Magnificent of Backwater I had just removed from the Chocolate Frog carton in front of me. "If you give me some frogs, I'll trade you my best ones."

Mother had thrown out all of my Chocolate Frog cards when she "reorganized" my room—I had had an impressive collection consisting of pretty much every card from every Frog I'd ever eaten and quite a few I'd stolen from Regulus and Sissy, and even a few that Ann and, more rarely, Bellatrix had given me. The thought of those lost cards made me grimace. Cob the Magnificent was more or less the only card I had now. I decided not to mention my embarrassing lack of trading material, and was, therefore, glad to make the boy a present of a handful of Chocolate Frogs instead.

"Thanks…" he said, plopping himself down on the bed to the right of mine and tearing into one. He leaned over a bit to try to make out the name engraved on the clasp of my trunk.

"Sirius," I informed him quickly, not wanting him to read the elaborate, looping "Master S. Black" on my trunk.

"Sirius," he repeated cheerfully. "Thanks, Sirius." He extended his hand to me across the gap between our beds. His fingers were sticky with melting chocolate, but I took it anyway. "I'm James."


	6. Out With the Old

_ The news about Sirius did nothing to improve the situation at our house. Mother went around muttering about her ungrateful, worthless son and Father shook his head a lot and spent a lot of time in his study, alone. Aunt Elladora used to bring it up, but Mother always responded by asking after Andromeda's health, which usually brought the conversation to a grinding and awkward halt._

_ The only thing that did improve was, as I had predicted, my own small role in family affairs. Without Sirius to nag, Mother had little to occupy herself with; she didn't work and we had servants to do the chores. She, therefore, turned her attention to me. I was also alone with my tutors which meant I spent more time studying and less time listening to them chew out Sirius for misbehaving. And family gatherings had become really dull now that all of the younger generation was off to Hogwarts except me. I spent hours curled up by my mother's side, in a state of half-sleep, while the adults carried on about this and that._

_ Most of the this and a good portion of the that had to do with the rise of the Dark Lord. Of course, no one called him that yet. He was just some radical wizard calling for action against the Muggles who were oppressing our society, forcing us to live hidden and restricted, and polluting the world with their idiotic Muggle waste and excess. Several offshoots of this movement occurred as the revolutionary talk traveled from mouth to mouth. One of the movements wanted to end the charade the Wizarding World put on and join our world with the Muggle world. They wanted to live side by side and thus end the restrictions that forced us to refrain from practicing magic on and before Muggles, and forced us to hide our houses and schools and ways of life from their prying Muggle eyes. This was not a very popular movement, as many wizards felt that Muggles were an obnoxious group who would only attempt to take advantage of the situation, and few people wanted to deal with Muggles anyway. We didn't mind cutting ourselves off from them if it meant never having to address them in public or acknowledge them or their ways. All the same, for some months long-haired, bellbottom-clad wizards and witches lined the streets of wizarding alleys and protested the Ministry's laws. Father shook his head at them and Mother called them "filth-eaters" and "consorts of swine."_

_ Other offshoot movements rallied for other setups, some Muggle-friendly, others elitist. But the Dark Lord's plan called for immediate and permanent action against the Muggles and left no place for them in our society. Soon, clubs and organizations of which my parents were members began handing out newsletters and notices lamenting how the blood of wizarding families was becoming increasingly "bastardized" by the intermarrying of wizards and Muggles. They wrote reports indicating that Muggle blood in a family could cause a weakening in the magical talent of its offspring and an increased chance of Squib births. After these reports, several cases were reported in the newspapers of husbands beating their wives or demanding divorces after fathering Squibs, claiming the Squib children were proof that their wives had been cheating on them with Muggle men._

_ Everyone was up in arms about the whole thing and several bitter fights broke out over the months between pureblooded and mixed blooded families. The pressure to prove one's heritage and worth became increasingly important at home. Under these circumstances, Sirius' deviant and altogether dishonorable behavior—his being sorted in Gryffindor, his negligence regarding the family, the unfavorable reports Bellatrix continually sent home of his activities, and the unworthiness of the companions he associated with at school—was an understandable strain on the family. And then came the shock of Andromeda's secret._

Dec 31st, 1972

Number 36, Redburn Ave.

As Christmas was from now on to be celebrated at our house, it seemed only fair that the New Year should be rung in at Uncle Claudius'. Last year, we had celebrated Sirius and Narcissa's first Christmas home from Hogwarts by going out to eat. This year, however, there was a good, old-fashioned feast at the Black Manor on Redburn Avenue. I was excited because I was allowed to stay up past midnight, an unusual occurrence. Ever since Sirius had gone off to school a year and a half ago, Mother had turned some of her attention to rearing me, and had, accordingly, transferred the strict rules with which she had used to regulate Sirius' life to my life.

Speaking of Sirius, last year at the Christmas holidays I had been uncontrollably excited to see Sirius again, and in the summer vacation I had looked forward to conversing with him. This time around I was a bit wiser. Every time Sirius had come home in the year and a half since he had started Hogwarts, he became more and more ornery; it seems his school life had afforded him a freedom he couldn't find at home, and the loss of that freedom irked him to no end. And now that he was a second-year, one might think he was the Prince of the World. He spoke on every subject as though he were an expert and told me endless stories of the things he had seen and done at Hogwarts, all of which I, according to him, could scarcely imagine.

Well, if his intention was to make me jealous, he was at least partly successful; I could hardly wait to go to Hogwarts myself, and the eight long months which separated me from my goal were a torture. I was sick and tired of being the baby of the family. As if to complete my misery, Sissy had taken it upon herself to "babysit" me all night. Now, after the feast, waiting for the hour which would usher in the new year, I was hard pressed to escape her watchful gaze.

"Reggie, come and sit by me," she commanded loftily, waving at a cushioned stool at the foot of her chair. I sat on it glumly. The sound of adult laughter wafted in from the Drawing Room where our parents were gathered, reminding me that I was, perhaps, grateful to be where I was after all; at least we children were all together again, just as in the old days. Sissy reached down and patted my head patronizingly. "You'll be off to the old school soon enough, too," she announced.

"That's right," Bellatrix crooned in her baby's voice. "Our little Reggie. All grown up." She pretended to wipe a tear off her cheek. I rolled my eyes. I was almost ten and no baby anymore. "Promise me," my black-haired cousin continued, "that you won't go off and disgrace us, like your brother."

"Yes, do see that you're sorted into Slytherin," Sissy groaned. "That was the most embarrassing moment of my life. Besides, I wouldn't want to be separated from you." She leaned down and wrapped her slim, pale arms around my neck.

As Sirius was not in the room, I felt brave enough to reply, "Oh, _I_ won't disappoint you." And I firmly intended to fulfill that prophecy. The mere thought of my mother's agonized expression upon hearing of Sirius' activities was enough to convince me of the necessity of doing well at Hogwarts.

"Oh, good," Bellatrix murmured, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially in my ear. "If we had Sirius, you know, removed, you wouldn't be adverse to becoming the heir, would you?"

I started and gazed up at her with wide eyes. "What?" She wasn't seriously talking about harming my brother, was she? That was going much too far. He wasn't perfect, true, but who of us was? He would grow out of his rebellious stage, surely.

"You have to admit," Bellatrix continued, her dark eyes flashing, "Sirius isn't very well suited to the job. It might be in the family's interest to have him…replaced."

Sissy nodded solemnly. "You should see him, Reggie. I have classes with him occasionally. He is always sitting in the back of the classroom with his stupid friend, the one with the glasses, an uncouth, unwashed good-for-nothing if I ever saw one. They don't even pay attention to the lectures. They must've gotten detention at least ten times this year already. If my companions didn't already know he was my cousin, I would deny having anything to do with him!"

"You're not going to hurt him, are you?" I cried, leaping to my feet. "He didn't do anything… he…"

"Oh, silly baby," Bellatrix laughed. She had a high, piercing laugh. "We're just teasing, of course." She ruffled my hair, but I felt disconcerted.

We were interrupted by Sirius coming into the room, grinning. Placing himself in a large, plush chair in the center of the room, he reached a hand into the inner folds of his robes and withdrew several bottles of Butterbeer. He must have snitched them from the cellar. Setting these on the floor in front of him, he announced, "I got these for us," and commenced opening one of the bottles and taking a sip.

"What a little thief," Bellatrix commented, almost proudly, and took a bottle herself. As it was New Year's Eve, our parents usually gave us a glass of some bubbling drink at midnight, but it was only one glass, and anyway, I thought it tasted funny and never drank mine. Butterbeer sounded like a much more interesting beverage. Sirius had told me at Christmas how he and his mate, James was his name, I think, had managed to pinch some from a fourth-year returning from Hogsmeade around Halloween and had, therefore, gotten their first taste. He said it was good.

As I reached out to take a bottle of my own, a hand grasped my wrist. "Reggie!" Sissy tapped my nose with a finger of her free hand. "You're much too young to be drinking!"

"You're too young, too," Bellatrix pointed out as her little sister took the bottle I had been reaching for. "You're all too young. Babies, all of you," she pronounced.

Sissy looked offended, said, "I'm twelve!" and pouted. Sirius grunted.

"Let him have one," he said. "I got enough for everyone. It's a party, by Merlin." Still, Sissy turned up her little nose and grabbed all the remaining bottles, hauling them back to her chair.

I was so angry, I felt like crying, but I knew Sirius would just make fun of me if I did, and since he had sided with me, I didn't want to annoy him for any reason. Instead, I crossed my arms and wrinkled my nose. "Here, Reggie," Sirius said, standing and offering me his half-empty bottle. At this, I couldn't stop it: a tear trickled down my face. "You're such a big baby," Sirius groaned. "You don't even deserve it." But he gave me the bottle anyway. Then he stomped back to the door. "You are all a bunch of ninnies," he proclaimed before waltzing off.

I tried to salvage the situation by drinking my Butterbeer but Bellatrix howled with laughter and said, "Look at the little dear! Thinks he's all grown up, does he?" Sissy pouted and tried to take my drink away from me. At last I couldn't stand it anymore. Hoping Sirius would still be slightly well-disposed towards me, I rushed off to find him. Oddly, he wasn't anywhere to be found.

It took some time of searching before I finally spied him on the third story in my Uncle Claudius' private library, crouched in a corner with his nose in a book. I had avoided looking in this room several times because it was invariably off limits to us children. Still, after confirming that my brother was nowhere else to be found… and then I had discovered that the normally locked door had apparently been forced open through the use of a curious magical device that I didn't understand. I was very surprised to find him there, nonetheless. Cautiously, I crept forward until I could read the title of his book: _ Children of the Night: Wolves and their many forms_. I really couldn't fathom why Sirius was reading such a big, old tomb, and even less why he was surrounded by several dusty books with titles like _Malicious Monsters_,_ Werewolves: A complete guide_, and_ Moon Phases for Beginners_.

"What are you…" I didn't even get to finish my question. Sirius leapt up, slammed his book shut, and backed defensively against the shelves behind my uncle's desk.

"You," he hissed, grey eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here?"

"That was my question," I retorted, but he only scowled in reply. "I just wanted to see…" I began again, wanting desperately to patch up my offense.

"What are you two doing in my father's study?" Bellatrix's cold, harsh voice cut through my explanation. She was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips; I had left the door open, and she must have noticed. Sirius glared at me.

"We're playing hide n' seek," I lied quickly. I felt bad lying to Bellatrix, but I was in a panic.

"And you decided to break in to a locked room to hide?" she hissed.

"We're sorry," I cried, rushing forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sirius slip one of the smaller books into his robe's pocket. I don't think Bellatrix noticed. "I thought it would be a good place to hide…"

Bellatrix didn't look convinced. "Get out," she commanded. "It's midnight, you fools. It's time for our toast. Where is Ann?"

"Ann?" Sirius drew up to us. "I haven't seen her since the feast."

"Me neither," I murmured, as a revelation dawned on me. "And I searched the whole house, just now… looking for Sirius, you know."

"She must be with our parents," Sirius suggested, but Bellatrix shook her head.

"She's not. I've just been there. They sent me to find you. And her."

The three of us searched the house together, but Ann was nowhere to be found.

Three hours later she still hadn't turned up. I fell asleep in Sirius' lap while the adults yelled at each other and stalked about. I woke up every now and again from troubled dreams and Sirius patted my head. I thought about the day almost two years ago when Ann had met with her man friend in the garden. I had never spoken of it to anyone, but I still remembered vividly her mentioning leaving us, her family, forever. At the thought of it, my old fears resurfaced and I began to cry.

"Hush, Reggie," Sirius muttered.

"She's left us forever, hasn't she?" I sobbed. "She's gone off because she loves that man more than she loves us!" Tears streamed down my face.

Sirius shook me roughly and said, "Don't do that now," but I could see that his own eyes were watery and his eyebrows were furrowed, his expression pained.

"Why doesn't she love us?" I asked, staring intently at my older brother, demanding that he give me the answers. After a few brave moments, he pursed his lips and big, wet tears rolled down his cheeks. But he didn't answer.

I never saw my cousin Andromeda again.


	7. Once a Thief

_ Back then, I didn't understand at all what had happened. Now, of course, it is clear. At some point in the following days, someone must have explained to me that Andromeda had gone off to marry the man I had seen in the garden. His name was Ted Tonks and his parents were Muggles. Aunt Elladora and Uncle Claudius had tried to prevent her from making such a terrible mistake, but she had refused to listen._

_ The embarrassment of this scandal far out shadowed anything Sirius had done, and for a while he was almost forgotten. I expected Mother to revel in Aunt Elladora's obvious shame and misery, but to my surprise, even she seemed incensed. "How could she?" she would rage, and Father would shake his head and respond, "I never would have thought it of our little Ann." Aunt Elladora was inconsolable and expressed several times her wish that Andromeda had died rather than do such a foolish, shameful thing. Narcissa cried that she wouldn't be able to face any of her friends at school and Bellatrix called her older sister the most wicked names. Everybody got all choked up and red-faced when the subject was brought up, and early in January, Mother dragged out the large tapestry of the family tree and, with one angry swish of her wand, burned a jagged hole right through Andromeda's name. This set me crying all over again, and for several months I was miserable, especially as Sirius was back at school._

_ Then, as if to add insult to injury, Uncle Claudius revealed that several things had been stolen from his house the day Andromeda disappeared—New Year's Eve. He was loathe to describe the missing items in great detail and all I could gather was that they were valuable and sorely missed. I balked at the idea that my lovely, carefree cousin would steal precious artifacts from her own father; she didn't seem the type. But in the sad aftermath of her disappearance, we all had to admit that she had obviously been disturbed enough to do something crazy like running away with a Mudblood. Mother said that someone who would do that was already so far astray, he wouldn't hesitate to commit _ any_ crime._

_I did finally get to hear that, among the missing items were several books from Uncle Claudius' private library. This news gave me pause. I had only seen Sirius stuff one book into his pocket, but who was to say that he hadn't taken more once I turned my back? A nephew who can steal one book from his own uncle can probably steal two. Maybe he can even steal other things. It dawned on me for the first time that I had no idea why Sirius had taken the book, some discourse on wild beasts or other if I remembered correctly. At the time I hadn't questioned it, and I hadn't wanted to incur Sirius' wrath. But looking back, it could easily have been part of a bigger chain of events. Sirius had, after all, also stolen the Butterbeers from the cellar. In fact, Sirius, it seemed suddenly to me, was rather fond of stealing things in general. I became obsessed with the idea that Sirius was heading down a criminal and degenerate path. Uncle Claudius was obviously livid, so the stolen items must have been important. And it didn't seem fair to let Andromeda, crazy or not, take the blame for something she didn't do._

_ For several weeks I kept quiet. But the more Uncle Claudius' lamented his loss, the guiltier I felt. Claudius was my _ uncle_, after all. I couldn't bear the thought of betraying my family's trust like that. True, I would have to betray my brother, but who should one stand up for in such cases? The _criminal_? How could I defend Sirius when he had knowingly betrayed and hurt the entire family? I went to Mother and told her all I knew. First her face went white as chalk, then red and she scowled. The angry flush in her cheeks frightened me and I regretted having confided in her. Perhaps sensing my fear, she suddenly grew calm and cold again and, bending down to look me in the eye, stroked my hair and said, "It was very right of you to come to me, Regulus. We must put an end to such deviance immediately. You do want to help your brother, don't you?" I nodded vigorously in response and felt immediately cheered. I had pleased my mother, been true to my family, and taken the first steps to helping Sirius out of his moral decline, or so I thought._

_ Mother sent him a howler at school. He wrote back an angry letter that denied all knowledge of any items taken from Uncle Claudius' house, which I knew to be a flat out lie because I had seen him take the book. The knowledge of this lie helped Mother and me to remain firm in our measures._

July 14th, 1973

Number 12, Grimmauld Place

I stood, mournfully, by the window, watching the street. I'd just had a fight with a mate of mine. It was a petty affair, but to a 10-year old like me, it seemed like a big deal. On top of that, I'd fallen on the way home and scraped my knee. Mama wasn't particularly sympathetic to such things, so I'd tried to keep it to myself, but nothing could prevent a few sniffles from escaping me as I traced a pattern in the dusty windowsill.

I saw Sirius look over at me, not unkindly, and I dared to hope that he might be open to hearing my complaints. It had been a fairly muted summer, and lately he hadn't antagonized me at all.

"I had a fight with Daedalus," I told him. "He really hurt my feelings. And then I fell down and scraped my knee."

"Why don't you just run crying to Mum?" he snapped. "That's what you normally do, isn't it?"

"What?" I protested. He was being grossly unfair. "Just because I have a good relationship with our mother…"

"Nobody can have a good relationship with that woman," Sirius muttered darkly. I found that extremely rude and unfair of him. He had never tried.

"For your information, everything runs pretty smoothly when you're not home."

"Which is why," he sneered, "you found it necessary to tell her about Uncle Claudius' book, I suppose?"

I grew stiff. Up until now, Sirius had always denied everything. This was the first time he had openly admitted to me that he had taken the book. "You should have seen Uncle Claudius," I said softly. "He was beside himself."

"About this one book? I doubt it." Sirius gave me a sideways look.

"Other things were taken, too."

"Not by me!"

A heavy silence fell between us.

I sighed. "Why did you take the book in the first place?" I had been dying to know ever since the whole uproar occurred.

"Why should I tell you?" Sirius was still looking at me out of the corner of his eye. "You'll just go snitch on me to Mum. You always do."

"That's not fair." Annoyed, I got off my stool and came around to face him. I forced him to look me in the eye. "You want me to stand up for you? Then stop dishonoring the family! I try to be your friend, and then you turn around and stab me in the back."

"Who's stabbing whom?" Sirius leapt off his seat with a mad glint in his eyes, his face flushed. "You're the one who betrayed me! Remember?"

I didn't remember ever betraying him, unless he meant about the stupid book. "You _did_ steal it. You admit to it. How can you demand that I stick up for you if it means hurting other members of the family? Don't I owe them something, too?"

"I don't care about the bloody book," Sirius exclaimed, his eyes round with anger. "The day I went to school. You turned your back on me."

Another silence reigned. It took me a long moment even to recall what he was talking about. It had been almost two years since he had left for his first year at Hogwarts and I had only been eight years old.

"You and Father," he prompted. "You left me when I asked for your help."

At last a faint memory came back to me. "When Mama was helping you pack?" That had been so long ago! How could he possibly remember it so well? Why on Earth did he keep that memory bottled up with him all this long time? "Sirius, that was two years ago!"

"Two years or two hundred years, it doesn't matter." Sirius crossed his arms across his chest and glared at the floor. "You betrayed me. You sided with Mum. You always do."

"Only when you do stupid things. Like steal from our uncle."

"Always that damned book! Why do you keep bringing it up?"

I felt like hitting him. How could he be so dense? "Because I don't understand…"

"No, you certainly don't." Sirius turned his face away from me and grimaced. "Listen to me, Regulus. You're perfectly right. In order to stay faithful to me, you would have to betray other members of this family. I don't intend on being a 'good boy' so there's no way you can satisfy us both." He turned back and looked me squarely in the eye. "But that's a choice you're going to have to make. We all make choices, Reggie. That's what makes us who we are. And you are going to have to choose between me and the family. There's no sitting on the fence. This is a war. Everyone will have to choose sides eventually."

"This is not a war…"

"You don't understand. It's going to be a war." He threw his hands up in disgust. "Mark my words, Reggie. Don't you hear the way people are talking? Riots break out in the streets. Three Muggle-born wizards who worked for the Ministry were mugged or beaten in the last six months alone. One of them is in St. Mungo's."

I had heard the story, but only vaguely. I didn't read the newspapers. I didn't have much interest in hearing all the gory details, and anyway, Father said the Prophet was all sensationalist speculation. "That has nothing to do with us," I argued. "Those people are batty. They won't touch our family."

"You think we'll be left alone?" He began pacing, but abruptly he stopped and faced me again. "Nobody remains untouched by war."

He was posing again. When had Sirius ever been in a war? I didn't know where he got this stuff. Probably from his school mates. Sissy said that Sirius hung out with an odd bunch. I thought that was sad; Sirius deserved better. I decided to change the subject. "I'm your brother, Sirius," I reminded him. Sometimes I felt as though he had forgotten. The word 'brother' felt almost foreign on my lips. "I want to help you."

"Then make up your mind." Sirius shook his head vehemently. "In the end, everyone will have to choose, Reggie. Even you."


	8. The Oldest Trick

_ The news that the giants had broken peace with the humans was pretty big. Up until then, a steady if tension-fraught truce had existed between the two races for years. In fact, humans had managed to remain with fairly good relationships with all magical creatures and races ever since Grindlewald had been defeated._

_ Giants are not particularly peaceful creatures by nature. Their sudden revolt reflected this. Giants who were employed as construction workers, guards, and animal trainers turned against their employers, and when a giant rebels, things get bloody. Several squads of hit wizards had to be sent in to take out one of two giants. Some people got overly excited and spread rumors that the giants were going to try to take over London. Mothers threatened their badly-behaved children with stories of the giants who would come to clobber them if they didn't settle down. Of course, _ my_ mother never did. I was perfectly aware that no giants would ever attack us, no matter what Sirius said. They would never make it far enough into the city._

_ The revolt started up a wave of violence and distrust. Basically, wizards and witches became extremely suspicious of any non-humans or intelligent creatures. Some wizards took their money out of Gringotts, claiming non-humans couldn't be trusted with that sort of responsibility. There was a disastrous attempt on the part of villagers to chase an old vampire out of his crypt in a rural cemetery which resulted in the death of several farmers and the town mayor after a fire was apparently started by one of their torches. The old vampire escaped. The Tattler claimed that a number of centaurs had been hunted down in a park, loads of non- or part-humans lost employment and the Ministry began to renew and renovate their policies concerning part-human employment. Cousin Belerma gave all of her house elves a thorough beating just in case they felt rebellious themselves, which I felt at the time to be ridiculous as I had never heard of a rebellious house elf._

_I was very surprised to hear Cousin Orion say that the giants would be sure to help us out in an eventual war against the Muggles, and that the giants understood where true power lay: with the rising Dark Lord. None of the papers had officially linked the giants' rebellions with the Dark Lord, and it frankly confused me. I was under the impression that his policies included the elevation of human life over that of animal or part-human life. That is not to say that I include Muggles in that statement. He didn't think Muggles really counted as humans. To him, they were more like half-humans, incomplete, worthless and malformed through their lack of magical abilities, like a bucket full of holes or a lame horse. Still, I was pretty sure that families like mine who supported the Dark Lord's movements were all for the total enslavement of brutes like giants and ogres—I mean, can you imagine working in an office side by side with a _giant_? I can't!—so I didn't see what the giants' motivation was for siding with him. I guess sometimes _any_ sort of change seems like good change when you're living in hateful conditions._

_ Speaking of that, the giants weren't the only ones agitating for change. Now that I was finally getting a chance to go to Hogwarts, I found that the Black reputation preceded me. But now it wasn't just a reputation for pure-bloodedness, talent, and ambition. No, there was another Black there now who had developed a reputation for something entirely different: trouble. I'm speaking of Sirius, of course. Sirius and his mates. It was my first year at Hogwarts—I was sorted into Slytherin, thank Merlin!—but I soon became acquainted with my brother's habits. He hung out with a small group of third-years who became increasingly known for always being present where trouble occurred. In the beginning, I think they were simply bored kids with an attraction to mischief. They would come from whatever they were doing to witness it with gleaming eyes. Over the years, they began to create that mischief themselves until they no longer had to seek it out; it followed them around. They were four in all. Besides my brother there was a small, gangly boy named James. I knew from Sirius' stories that this was his best mate. I couldn't for the life of me see why; James was a bland, loud-mouthed kid who was desperate for attention. It was no surprise that he attracted a couple of shy bottom-feeders—the other two members of the clan were a poor, malicious fat kid and an even poorer???—but Sirius ought to have been way out of his league. I'll never understand what held those four boys, as different from each other as it seemed possible to be, together, but it must have been something strong._

September 13th, 1973

Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

James was just telling me about the new broom he'd gotten, the one he was going to use to try out for the Quidditch team—a spot for a Chaser had just opened up with the graduation of our best player—when we all heard a shriek accompanied by the familiar sound of someone falling to the ground, books and parchment flying in every direction, inkwell splattering. I almost didn't have to turn around to know that it was Peter. He'd stayed behind in the classroom to clean up the mess he had inadvertently made, and now he had undoubtedly been running to catch up with us.

I turned around. It was him, all right. He lay prostate on his stomach, eyes still squeezed shut, mouth twisted into a frozen grimace. His stuff was sprawled out all over the floor and several older Ravenclaws stood nearby, giggling. It would seem one of them had "accidently" put his foot out as Peter came barreling out of the stairwell. Remus was already quietly gathering Peter's things. A couple Slytherins who had witnessed the whole thing picked up Peter's inkwell and tossed it at Remus. "Here, did you want this?" they called, smirking as the ink splashed out all over Remus' robes and hands. Beside me, I felt James stiffen. He marched up to Peter, looked the Ravenclaws straight in the eye and said, "You think you're real jokers, eh?"

"What's it to you, short stuff?" The Ravenclaws were at least fifth- or sixth-years and most of them towered over James. Hell, even I towered over James this year. His growth spurt seemed slow in coming. And to tell the truth, he was more than a little touchy about it.

"Oh, ok," he sputtered, trying to keep his cool. "I see. Ok. I can take a joke." Calmly, but with tight lips and a clenched jaw, he smiled at the Ravenclaws. Peter, by this time, was struggling to regain his composure. I went over to help him brush off. Remus gave him his things back. Kids were always picking on Peter. They thought he was a loser and an idiot. Well, they weren't all wrong, but there was a lot more to Pete than met the eye. I knew. I had seen it. He just didn't flaunt it all over the place so most people didn't realize it was there. I had a sort of respect for him in that sense.

"But you know," James was saying to the older students. "You did it all wrong."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." The short, skinny boy pulled himself up to his full height and swung his head nonchalantly. "Sticking out your foot to trip somebody is the oldest, lamest trick in the book. If you have to do it, at least do it with some originality." The older boys looked as though they were going to spit out some retort, but James continued on in a calm, inoffensive voice. "You chose a good position, but you didn't fully utilize your assets." He sounded like a professor. Some of the kids were exchanging glances and raising eyebrows. A group of curious students coming out of other classrooms had gathered to see what was going on. The power of curiosity and novelty is amazing. You wouldn't believe how many people you can manipulate simply by appealing to their base imaginations.

James continued, "you should have done it like this, if I might make a suggestion." He waved to Peter. "Peter, if you would return to your earlier position at the bottom of the stairs?" Peter threw me a questioning glance, but I was beginning to catch on. I put on a snobbish look and waved him irritatedly towards James. He obeyed. "Now," James said as Peter took up his place on the lowest step. "If you would have looked about you, you would see these narrow hallways are the perfect place to set up a little spill, if you'll excuse the pun." So saying, he muttered, "Aquaro" and turned his wand into a fountain. Water sprayed from the top, gushing forth, and a rain of droplets fell on some of the spectators, including the Ravenclaws. They bristled, and James stepped back. "Sorry," he said.

He aimed the flow of water at the hallway floor, creating a huge puddle within seconds. Remus carefully made a low-level shield with his wand to prevent the water from simply flowing away down the hall while I inconspicuously sidled up to the Ravenclaws and melted into the spectators behind them. "To let him trip and fall into a puddle would have been a big step up from your prank," James lectured. "But even then, might it not be even better to freeze the water…" Here he cast Glacius on the puddle, turning it into a long, oddly-shaped sort of ice rink. Remus coughed discreetly which meant he had spotted a professor coming this way. James stepped it up a notch. "Once you've turned the hallway into a sort of ice slide, you could _then_ trip your victim, causing him to fall on the ice and slide all the way down the hallway, possibly until smashing into the wall, with the added benefit that anyone who tries to help him or pick up his things would probably slip on the ice as well. In fact the whole hallway might become one huge mass of slipping, sliding chaos. Sort of like this."

The whole time, James had positioned himself beside Peter, as if he really meant to test out his hypothesis on his mate, and now all eyes went to the hapless blond third-year. In reality, it was I who acted. I heaved myself against the Ravenclaws with all my might, causing them to stumble forward. One foot slipping on the ice was all it took. The boy grabbed at his mates, causing one of them to go down with him. Then I kicked the backs of the other boys' knees and they fell forward too.

Of course, now the hallway was already a mess, kids were shouting, and the professor's cries could be heard as he bore down on us. There would be a lot of trouble, that was for sure. I could already hear the word "detention" echoing off the walls. It was their only weapon, this threat of detention. As if it was a serious threat! James and I had practically gotten to know each other in detention. We had formed our club in detention. It was in a detention session, hand-copying chapters from _Atlantis: Fall of a civilization_, that I first jumped atop a desk and declared that we ought to join together and fight, to protest the current state of affairs, and assert our rights as students. There is no compromise, and some things are worth dying for. Freedom is one of those things. And I'd be damned before I bowed to the power of the so-called elite. I would fight them hand to hand if it came to it. All power to the people!


	9. Brotherly Love

_ Now, Hogwarts has the strange effect of breaking up family life as I have said many times before. The truth is, spending the whole year away from your family, with only a small rest at the holidays, makes a child either feel very independent or very alone. Or this has been my experience anyway. And it isn't difficult to figure out that, as usual, Sirius veered off into one extreme and I into the other. _

_By this time, it was quite common for upperclassmen to discuss politics in hushed tones in the common rooms. I heard, to my dismay, that many people felt very vehemently about the rise of the Dark Lord. Bellatrix, who was now a seventh year and stalked about the Slytherin dungeons like a queen, was openly telling all her friends that she thought a change in the wizarding regime would do the world good. At first I confided my fears for Bellatrix's safety—many in Hogwarts disagreed with the Dark Lord-- in Narcissa, but she usually just patted my head with a sad look and told me that Bellatrix never changed her mind about anything. I talked to Narcissa quite often because of her more ambivalent opinion. Make no mistake, she wrinkled her nose around mudbloods and threw tantrums if a classmate of lower social standing did better than her in class, and yet she was not violent in nature and didn't intimidate me at all._

_I have said that Hogwarts separates families, and yet I have been giving mostly examples of my continuing bonds with my cousins. So let me direct my tale back to my relationship with Sirius which, incidentally, was null and void. I loved watching him play in Quidditch, although I fully supported the Slytherin team. But other than that, I hardly ever saw him. He wasn't mean to me or anything, he just didn't go out of his way to say hello to me. And then I started getting letters from Mother._

March 12th, 1975

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Each letter read something like this:

_ Regulus, my darling,_

_I hope school is going well. The test scores you sent home in your last letter looked wonderful. Of course your father and I are so proud of you. How is your brother? He never writes. I know I sent you a gift last time, but I just couldn't resist sending you a few Vissci & Jones truffles to remind you of home. The house is so empty now._

_ Mum_

Each time I read "Regulus, my darling," I was surprised and pleased all over again, even thought she wrote it in most every letter. This day was no exception. I just sat there and crinkled the piece of parchment lightly between my thumb and forefinger. She had, indeed, sent truffles; they were far too expensive and rare to be found in Honeydukes.

Thinking of my mum alone in that big house and lonely, and knowing that Sirius never even wrote to say how he was doing, made me frown. Christmas had been wonderful this year; Mum and I had talked about school a lot, I had gotten plenty of great presents, and people seemed to notice me for once. I was convinced it was because of being in Hogwarts at last. Everyone had to take a good scholar and promising young wizard seriously.

Feeling confident and pleased, as I always did when I got a letter from home, which I frequently did this year, I went for a stroll around the grounds. Even though it was still chilly out and I had to put on a coat, I liked walking about outside. Big as it is, the castle can be a bit confining at times.

I hadn't been walking long when I spotted a familiar figure leaning against a large tree right in the middle of a large spot of partially melted snow. It was Sirius. His hair was growing long again, just brushing the thick red and gold scarf wrapped about his shoulders and neck. He had a toothpick or something in his mouth which he was sucking petulantly on. He appeared to be skimming through a book on animagism. I wondered if he was writing a report. We hadn't even reached the topic in my class. It was third year material.

At first I almost wanted to just walk past, but I reminded myself that we were brothers and steered myself in his direction with an "oi, Sirius."

Sirius' grey eyes lifted to meet mine and for a moment he just stared at me. Then, shutting his book with a slight knitting of his brows, he nodded. "Regulus." He didn't call me Reggie anymore. I guess he thought it was childish.

"How are you doing," I pushed forward, thinking of our mother's letters.

Sirius' gaze darted about the lawn as if he were searching for something. "Uh, okay, I guess."

"I'm doing well," I said enthusiastically, even though he hadn't asked. "I got a perfect score on my History test. 'Course, I studied for it a lot. Mum's really proud." Secretly, I was wishing Sirius would be proud too. Despite his constant fooling around, Narcissa said he and his mate James had some of the best grades in the whole class, maybe the school.

But all he said was, "she said that? That she was proud?"

I nodded happily. "Yes, she did. In a letter, of course. She's been writing to me all year. It's great. She sent me truffles. Do you want one?"

"What?" Sirius seemed actually shocked. It felt kind of good, having gotten one up on him. "She sent you… nevermind." He shook his head. "It's a load of rubbish. She's just doing it to buy your affection."

Now it was my turn to be shocked. My hands even balled into fists. I was closer to hitting Sirius than I had ever been since I was just a kid. "That's a lie. Maybe you're jealous and suspicious, but you don't have to take it out on me! What'd I ever do to you?"

Sirius threw his head back and started to laugh. He seemed to have forgotten all about whatever it was he had been waiting for. He just kept choking out those barking guffaws of his until I really did hit him, a clenched fist right to the stomach. That shut him up and how! Doubled over and gasping for breath, Sirius looked up at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. His toothpick had fallen into the dirt.

"What the hell was that for?" he panted, straightening up with a wince and rubbing his abdomen tenderly.

"For being such a berk all the time," I said. I was amazed myself at my transformation, but I felt good and important for the first time in my life. My mother loved me and needed me. I was going to become something and make her proud. And suddenly Sirius didn't seem so amazing or bold anymore, he just looked like a conceited, sour prat. My voice didn't even quaver. "I can't stand seeing mum look all sad and lonely anymore. If you won't be kind her, I will. She misses you and she cares about you and all you can do is say mean things all the time. Well I won't…"

I was really ranting now, pointing my gloved finger right at Sirius' face. He'd had a big growth spurt, but I wasn't afraid of him. I would've kept on going, too, but Sirius suddenly leaned forward and caught my hand in his own. "Reggie," he said softly and I was so shocked, the words tied on my tongue. "Listen, I know it sounds bitter and crazy, but don't you think it's odd how she never cared a whit about you before, and now suddenly…"

He was taking it a bit far. I cut him off. "Didn't care a whit? Thanks a lot." I jerked my hand out of his and stuck my tongue out at him.

"Ok, I didn't mean to say it like that," Sirius apologized sulkily, crossing his arms and looking away from me. "And it's not that I want… look, if she just wouldn't ask me to…" My brother was having a hard time finding the words he wanted. He kept flicking the tassels hanging off the end of his scarf and staring at his feet. "I just want to be myself," he said at last, looking a little flushed as though the admission embarrassed him.

I thought I knew what that meant. "You don't want the responsibility, hmm?" Mum had mentioned this in one of her letters. That Sirius was shirking his duty because he'd rather run around like a fool with no cares. "It's no fun taking care of the family so you don't want to do it?"

"I didn't say that… Merlin, Regulus!" Sirius looked up again with a snarl. I swear, his teeth were practically bared like a dog's.

I didn't get to respond because we were interrupted by the arrival of a third party: Sirius' best mate. He was running across the grounds, his boots squelching loudly in the wet snow, waving his arms about like a lunatic and calling Sirius' name at the top of his voice. Apparently he had no sense of class. "Sirius, Sirius," he panted as he drew close. He also had two books on animagism tucked under his arm. It must have been a class project. "Sorry I'm late, but I tell you it was worth it! You gotta come have a look at this."

Sirius had immediately focused all his attention on the other boy upon spotting him, but now he turned back to me for a moment. "Look, Regulus, I gotta go," he said, his voice slightly surly.

The other boy, James, turned and looked at me as though seeing me for the first time. "Oh hey, it's the kid brother," he said, running a hand through his fly-away black hair. "What's he doing here?" he asked Sirius. As if I couldn't answer for myself.

"Nothing important, apparently, since Sirius doesn't mind leaving in the middle of it," I responded bitterly, hoping to goad my brother into a reaction. But he disappointed me.

"Yeah, it's nothing," he said quietly and turned to leave with his mate. I watched them go a little ways. I could hear when James remarked loudly, "what's his problem," but I couldn't hear Sirius' answer. The air whistling around my face suddenly seemed too cold to bear so I simple walked back inside the castle.

_A/N: HBP Spoilers Well, I never thought I'd have to worry too much about canon Regulus information, much as I hoped for it. But now, with all those R.A.B. theories floating about, I feel I ought to at least include a slight disclaimer here. Much as I also thought of Regulus immediately upon reading the initials on that mysterious letter in HBP, and as much as I momentarily considered changing the end of this story to incorporate that idea, I've decided for the time being to simply continue on as planned. So, regardless of whatever happens in the seventh HP book, read this keeping in mind that this story was conceived pre-HBP and forgive any inconsistencies on my part. _


	10. Something Blue

_ Things didn't get any better after that. I didn't talk to Sirius again until the summer. He seemed perpetually busy. When he wasn't in the Gryffindor common room, he was, unexpectedly, in the library poring over some old books like a man possessed. He and James were joined at the hip even more than usual. I was angry at him so I didn't try again. Let him approach me, I thought._

_ Because of this, summer holiday was a bit awkward. On the platform, he and I just looked at each other silently. Mum gave me a stiff hug and a kiss on the forehead. She gave him nothing. I don't know how he stood it or why he didn't apologize, but that's how it was. And because of his unresponsiveness, he got left out of our activities. Mum took me lots of places that summer, talked to me, and gave me little privileges. I wished Sirius would just come clean so we could share them together, but he didn't. We might have spent the whole summer doing nothing together, sitting in our rooms, nodding distantly to each other at meals, if it weren't for the celebration. _

_ Two very important things were happening to Bellatrix. Firstly, she had graduated, sitting her N.E.W.T.s with excellent results. Secondly, she was getting married. I was a little shocked to hear this, and Mother made certain to tell Aunt Elladora as frequently as possible that the wedding was being rushed. True, Bellatrix had brought her boyfriend, Rudolphus, to the family Christmas party, and his family—he was a Lestrange—was well known to ours, but to be married straight out of school! Well, Bellatrix was only 18!_

_ The wedding was a huge affair. The joining of two ancient and honorable wizarding families was always a big deal and this was no exception. Only purebloods were invited, of course. At one point Sirius asked if Andromeda had been invited for which he received a slap on the cheek from our mother. Apparently he put the same question to Bellatrix and, according to him, she responded with a tight-lipped "who's Andromeda?" That made me sad, but I did have to point out, it was Andromeda who ran away from us, not the other way around. If she loved that Mudblood man more than she loved us, the family could hardly be blamed for feeling insulted. When I told Sirius this, he looked a though he'd been bitten by a snake and refused to speak to me._

_At last the wedding day arrived and the hustle and bustle which had taken over our family life reached its peak. It was near the end of the summer, in the hottest days of August. It was the last time I saw Bellatrix for a while._

August 27th, 1975.

The Lestrange Mansion

By the time of the reception, in the late afternoon, it was still sweltering hot outside. Unusually hot, in fact. Which made it hard to explain why I was sitting on a lawn chair on the Lestranges' enormous front porch, shading my eyes from the sun and squinting at Regulus and Rabastan. Rabastan, Rudolphus Lestrange's younger brother, was creating a jet of cold air with his wand and aiming it at his face. Technically, we all should have been inside helping the bride and groom prepare for their grand entrance into the mansion, now that the ceremony was complete. Rabastan was even in the wedding party! But the cramped little room where Bellatrix was renewing her makeup was really more than could be stood.

"That was a nice ceremony," Regulus said conversationally. I wondered if he really meant it or if he was only saying to it kiss ass. Lately I wasn't even sure I knew Regulus anymore. More and more he'd fallen right into my mother's waiting arms, pathetically trying to please her. It made me sick, but he wouldn't listen to anything I had to say. I guessed I'd seen to that myself by having so little patience with him. With a sigh I slouched further in my seat and loosened the bow tie around my neck. My dress robes were almost all black except for the fine silver trimming and I wanted nothing so much as to ditch them and go for a swim in a lake somewhere. With James. Merlin, I missed James! I knew if he were here, I wouldn't be so unbearably bored.

At one point Mother broke the monotony by coming out and offering to get Regulus a drink. "You look so hot out here, boys," she crooned, but she only made eye contact with my brother. She came back with cold pumpkin juice for Regulus, and she even offered some to Rabastan, but as for me, not even an acknowledgement of my existence. I knew this was meant to make me jealous, and although I did feel a twinge of annoyance, I didn't rise to the bait. I waited until she left and stole some of Regulus's.

At last we were summoned to watch the newlyweds prance around the main hall in their finery. I didn't even bother to redo my bowtie. Rabastan was scowling through the whole thing. He was a bit of an ornery bastard, I'd decided, and he was bitter because he'd been snubbed as Best Man in favor of someone "older and wiser," a certain Lucius Malfoy, who was twenty-one. In my opinion, this Lucius Malfoy looked like a snobby prick, and he gave a fairly stiff, snobby toast. I overheard Narcissa whispering to Regulus that "that one's a catch, eh?" As expected, Regulus nodded enthusiastically although he can hardly have cared.

After the toast, we were finally allowed to sit down. The chairs were so hard and high-backed, everyone around the table looked as though he had a stick up his ass. I leaned over to whisper this observation to Regulus before remembering that I was mad at the little prick and stopped myself. Mother took the opportunity to hiss at me, "Fix your bowtie, for pity's sake, Sirius!" Across the table, the groom and his brother were toasting each other with big drinking mugs. Bellatrix was looking proud as a peacock. She gave me a significant glare. The Lestranges were even richer than we were. She probably thought she was getting one up on me by marrying the heir of such a powerful family. I hoped for the groom's sake that wasn't the only reason.

After supper, there was dancing. To be honest, I didn't feel much like dancing as I'd eaten like a horse and had a full stomach. Bellatrix was whirling around the floor in her ivory and silver robes looking like some sort of Ice Queen. Her full black hair was pulled up intricately in a bun so tight it looked like it hurt. Her dark lipstick and mascara made her look bewitching and yet scary. I grimaced when I thought about how unlucky her husband was. He was grinning foolishly behind his stately goatee, his arm around her petite waist. _Have fun, you dumb bastard_, I thought cheerfully. I was counting on Rudolphus Lestrange taking Bellatrix away from us forever. Then I'd never have to hear her talking about how weak and foolish my family was again. She'd never sneer at James and Remus and Peter, never stare at me with those resentful eyes. It was a joke, really. I'd have given her the bloody inheritance, if only to be rid of it.

I was leaning against the wall, watching Regulus and Narcissa take turns spinning each other around the floor when Rabastan Lestrange set himself up next to me. He looked, honestly, as though he'd had a little too much to drink. "Don't feel like dancing?" he asked me with raised eyebrows.

"Neither do you," I pointed out. I was ready to abandon the conversation right there when I spotted my mother looking my way. I could already feel her desire to march over to me and order me onto the dance floor in the arms of some distant cousin with curly hair and a low-cut neckline. Quite suddenly, I eased over to Rabastan and gave him a friendly smile. Consorting with the Lestranges was an activity she surely couldn't find fault with. Maybe she'd even buy that I was enjoying myself.

"So, Rabastan, quite a party, eh?" I asked, poking him in the ribs with my elbow. He looked a bit affronted at my familiarity, but he nodded.

"You've no idea," he agreed. "Rudolphus's been talking about it all summer. Says your cousin's going to make a great ally." He had a little trouble pronouncing his brother's name without a slur.

"Ally?" I repeated with faint surprise. "What is this, a business partnership? And here I thought we were at a wedding." I gave my companion a wink, although I inwardly detested his turn of phrase.

Rabastan laughed and gave an over-eager nod, his floppy dark hair bouncing with the movement. "Of course, but it can't hurt to get all the intelligent ones over to our side, right? When the Dark Lord arrives, he'll find us prepared."

At that my back stiffened so quickly I almost lost my balance. "Oh, he's coming to the wedding too, is he?" I said, trying to keep hold of the humor in the situation, although it was rapidly fading. I was afraid to say anything else lest he hear my disgust.

"Of course not," Rabastan admonished with a lopsided grin. "But he'll need us soon enough. He'll be sure to hear about the wedding, too. Rudolphus says the Dark Lord won't want to pass up such a prosperous opportunity. And when he comes, Rudolphus will even allow me to be present. If the Dark Lord wills it, of course." Rabastan, who was only a year older than me, looked eager and flushed. "Then, Rudolphus says we can start cleansing the area. Those Muggles won't know what hit them!"

I was beginning to be very sick of hearing what Rudolphus Lestrange had said. "I'm so happy for you," I said darkly. The thought of being newly related to the idiot next to me, even through law alone, was nauseating.

Irritated, I stood up straight and scanned the room for a safe haven, a place away from these bigots and sadists. But as I took in the sights and sounds, a dark, heavy realization settled on me: I was surrounded. Everywhere I turned stood members of ancient pureblood families like my own. In every corner they were whispering to each other, discussing politics and bloodlines. I looked to the dance floor. Even Narcissa, who was primarily concerned with herself, and Regulus, who was just an idiot willing to please, were wrapped up in it. They embraced this outdated, narrow-minded world. And they would all willingly go down with their sinking ship, clinging to the last strands of "tradition" and "honor" and "blood" until they were lost from sight. I wondered how many of those gathered in this place were also waiting to be contacted by "the Dark Lord." How many would turn on me and stab me, the blood traitor, in the back the next time they saw me? Would it be this idiot Rabastan? Would it be Bellatrix? Would it be Regulus? Would it be my own mother?

At that point, I really did feel sick, and I ran out of the cool house and into the heat of the yard. I knew now I would never make peace with Mother. I would never see eye to eye with my cousins. When I imagined how these people would treat Remus, an unwilling werewolf who also happened to be dirt poor, or when I imagined what they would say to James if they heard him spouting off about wanting to be an auror so he could kick some Death Eater ass, I knew that I had already chosen my side and that the differences between my family and myself were irreconcilable.


	11. Brother, Where art Thou

_I never understood what happened to Sirius at the wedding. But afterwards, he acted like a confunded ghost, gloomily trailing about the house, barely eating, and spending great amounts of time staring off into space. I thought maybe he had been subdued. But when we went back to Hogwarts, I for my third year and he for his fifth, I was in for a shock._

_ That year, Sirius had more detentions than ever. He and that mate of his, James, caused havoc all over the school. And the people who received the brunt of their attack were the Slytherins. There was a Slytherin Sirius' age who sometimes hung around with Narcissa, although my pretty cousin secretly told me that she found him a little repulsive, named Severus Snape. He had good grades, too, and brought in a lot of points for Slytherin in the House Cup. Boy did he hate Sirius, and Sirius hated him._

_I guess they'd had some classes together where Sirius had shown Severus up answering some questions. And then Severus had caught Sirius and James misbehaving. And one thing led to another until it was all-out war. Now I have a guilty confession to make. I sometimes wrote of these things to Mother. I felt, at the time, that the worse Sirius' behavior was, the better my own would seem. Petty, I know. But when we are young, we do many things we come to regret later. Whenever kids came crying into the common room or rumors flew at dinnertime, I wrote to Mother about it. Partly, I suppose, it was a way for me to vent my own anger about Sirius' aggressions. But my actions had unforeseen consequences: Mother stopped writing to me._

_In fact, she practically stopped speaking to me at all. That Christmas holiday was the worst I can remember. I was totally ignored by everyone, even Narcissa who had some dopey, auburn-haired boyfriend, whom she was constantly snogging secretly in the old nursery. Sirius got into a lot of arguments with everyone, more openly and rebelliously than he had ever dared before. I followed Mother around and spoke to her often, but she brushed me off, or at most merely nodded distractedly. It was as though I were invisible. I knew Mother was feeling some pressure after Bellatrix's marriage, pressure to prove that her side of the bloodline could live up to Claudius and Elladora's. But I didn't see why that meant she should dote on me less. I couldn't understand it at all, and I was filled with a deep depression._

_ When the holidays ended and school started again, I tried harder than ever, working to get the best grades in the class, studying all the time. I sent Mother my reports in letters as usual, but she didn't respond. I never got candy or gifts anymore. But I did notice the family owl arrive occasionally, only to watch him swoop proudly over to the Gryffindors' table and drop a letter onto Sirius' dinner plate. Sirius never looked happy to see them. By summertime, I was at my wit's end. And that is when the most horrifying and unexpected thing happened._

June 17th, 1976.

Number 12, Grimmauld Place

It was a pretty warm night and I had left the window open to provide some air circulation. It was also very late, past my bedtime, and fairly dark with only a half moon. By all accounts, I ought to have been fast asleep and dreaming about something pleasant. But, instead, I was lying awake in bed, working furiously on an Arithmancy equation whose answer had eluded me on my final tests. If I wanted to impress Mum, these sorts of mistakes were going to have to be eliminated.

I was scribbling up a storm when my bedroom door creaked open. With a guilty start, I slammed my ink well onto the bedside dresser, splashing small droplets onto my bedspread. But it wasn't Mum come to reprimand me for being up so late. It was Sirius.

Even more surprised, although less scared, I pushed my parchments onto the ground and turned to face him. His tall, dark form was bathed from behind with light from the hallway, making him look both grim and otherworldly. "Regulus," he said hesitantly, as though he regretted coming to my room after all. I waited. "I didn't know you were awake," he concluded lamely.

"Mmm," I mumbled, squirming restlessly beneath my sheets.

"Er," he said, looking at the floor. I could barely make out his features. Earlier, I'd wondered if he were ill; he'd been distant and thoughtful all week. Now I could see the hard, firm set of his shoulders. "Look, Reggie. Mum's driving me off the wall."

I nodded skeptically. They'd had a fight yesterday, Mum and Sirius. It had been a big one, complete with screaming and name-calling and small objects breaking. "She just wants you to be supportive of the family," I suggested. I wasn't sure why he was confiding in me all of a sudden.

"No," he muttered. "She's using me to get what she wants. Just like she's using you. It's never going to work out between us."

The same old argument. I didn't want to hear any more about it. "I love Mum," I insisted. "I don't care what she's doing. I'm not just going to abandon her."

This got Sirius' attention. He looked me in the eyes and said firmly. "Well, I am. Good-bye, Reggie."

Good-bye? "What?" I demanded in hoarse whisper, half choking on my surprise.

"Take care of yourself," he said without answering. "If you've got any sense, you'll get out, too."

I pushed myself into a sitting position and threw back the covers. "Where are you going?"

For a moment Sirius looked as though he wasn't going to tell me. Then he tossed his head proudly and said, "James'll take me in. He'll hide me if he has to. Don't bother looking for me. I'm not coming back."

Was he out of his mind? I couldn't decide if he was bluffing or not, so I sat around looking irritated for a while. He was turning to go when the reality sunk in. "Don't leave me," I said suddenly.

My brother paused, but he didn't turn back. "I'll see you at school," he offered vaguely, then hurried down the hall to his own room. He shut the door and I could hear the click of the lock as he turned the bolt.

Maybe I didn't believe him. I hardly believed someone could just walk out on his family as simply as that. Or maybe I was too scared or annoyed to confront him about it. Whatever the case, I didn't try to stop him. I didn't wake up our parents or knock on Sirius' door. Nothing. About three or four in the morning I heard a dog barking outside. Its bark had a low, deep, angry sound. I felt like this stray could someone sense the unhappiness seeping from our house. Then the dog left and I fell asleep.

I woke in the morning to my mother shrieking. I went into the hallway still dressed in my silk pajamas and saw my father standing silently, looking into Sirius' room. The lock had been forced with magic. I could see that Sirius' room looked as though a Niffler had gone through it. Things were thrown about and the drawers were emptied. "Phineas Nigellus told us," my father said in answer to my inquisitive look. "Your brother is gone." When I heard this, something in me broke. Running back to my room, I threw myself onto the bed, buried my head in my pillows, and sobbed. Nobody came to stop me for hours.

The whole thing was just so stunning, I don't think it registered with anybody for awhile. He hadn't given any grand, dramatic speeches like they do in the books. He had suffered no near-death beating or some other horrible offense to push him over the edge. There hadn't even been a significant change in his behavior. No, just like that he up and left, without warning or excuse.

We waited for three agonizing days. Sirius did not return. At last I said meekly, "I'll bet he went to his mate's house. We should look for him there."

"No," Mum said with so much force I shuddered. "He can come crawling back to us, not the other way around."

I thought this was too harsh. Sirius was her son. Didn't she want to find him and make sure he was alright? "I just want to see him," I insisted. "He's my brother…"

"No," she said again, suddenly. With a glint in her eyes she leapt off her chair and hurried to the tapestry room. Father and I followed curiously. Before we could really comprehend what she was doing, Mum had already raised her wand, and with a vicious flick of her arm, Sirius' name on the family tree crackled and smoked like a tiny firecracker. Within seconds, a charred hole was all that remained where Sirius had been. With a stomp of her foot, Mum turned to me and snarled, "You have no brother." Then she stalked out of the room.

This was a really harsh thing to say, but I knew that Mum was much more distraught than she acted. That night I heard the muffled sounds of her sobs through the walls. Sitting in bed, I clenched my fists and started hammering them against my pillows. Stupid, stupid Sirius! He just had to break the family apart! If he came back home now, I would lob him in the face.

It was lying there in the dark, on a night similar to one on which Sirius had left, that I realized I was the only son Mum had left. If Sirius never came back, everything would be up to me from now on. Gulping back sobs of my own and picturing my poor mother's red-rimmed eyes and bleak face, I swore into the darkness that I would not end up a failure like Sirius. Whatever happened, I would _make_ my mother notice me again. I would _make_ her happy.


	12. Auld Acquaintance

_ This was the beginning of the end for me. I can see that now. The rest of the summer was unbearable, what with the relatives coming over to discuss the loss of Sirius. Even I wasn't the least bit fooled this time. Bellatrix came to visit with her new husband and laughingly reminded me of a time long ago when she had suggested the family do away with Sirius and instate me in his place. I thought her timing was tactless. The portrait of Phineas Nigellus detested my crying and didn't visit his portrait frame for weeks. I kept wondering whether he had spied on my conversation with Sirius, and whether he held me responsible._

_ There was some short squall involving what to do with the Black inheritance. Naturally, Father and Mother argued it should be transferred to me, now the oldest male most directly descended from the ancestors. But Uncle Claudius seemed to think that now Bellatrix was married, a son of hers would be worthier of the title. He said the Black line shouldn't have to descend to the second son of a second son. Uncle Claudius wanted to put the inheritance in his own custody again until the best course of action was determined. It was almost worth it just to see Bellatrix's sour expression whenever people discussed her supposed imminent pregnancy. I don't think she was thrilled to be treated as a baby-making tool. Sirius would have said it served her right. Her husband, Rodolphus, mostly just laughed heartily and stroked his goatee. He seemed to think the whole thing was a tad ridiculous, and I tended to agree but for one exception. It was all taking a terrible toll on my mother._

_ The constant fighting with Uncle Claudius and Aunt Elladora drained of her energy until she was frequently white-faced and short-tempered. Father wasn't a whole lot of help; he hated to stand up to his brother Claudius. He took to drinking in the corner while Mother screeched over the table at Aunt Elladora. _

_ Shortly after I went back to school for my fourth year my father got sick. It's uncommon for wizards to get sick as we have many antidotes and more resilient bodies than Muggles. Even so, it happened. I had no idea if Sirius had also received letters about our father's illness, but he never said or wrote anything. _

_So stood things when January of '77 came around, ringing in a miserable new year. Father was too ill to attend any parties and Mother wasn't in the mood. That's how I ended up alone at Bellatrix's party surrounded by distant relatives and other purebloods. But it wasn't really a party as one generally thinks of them. Because this New Year's, Bellatrix had an agenda. One that sealed my fate forever._

Dec 31st, 1976.

The Lestrange Mansion

We were all seated in a circle around a large, sable-colored table, the kind with fancy, carved feet that look like claws. Rodolphus was sitting at the head of the table, as much as a circular table can have a head, in regal maroon and brown robes with his hands clasped over his stomach. The whole effect was a bit unnerving. There was a tickle in my throat, but I couldn't cough for fear of ruining the solemnity of the moment.

"I'd like to introduce you all to a very good friend and honorable man," Rodolphus was saying, gesturing to an older man I'd never met sitting to his left. The man had slightly graying stubble adorning his chin and narrow blue eyes with which he judged everyone in the room. "This is Saladin Kuhn. He has agreed very generously to come here and speak to us about an issue which has certainly been pressing all of us."

The matter I found most pressing just then was studying for my O.W.L.s. They weren't until next year, but I couldn't waste any time if I was to become someone important. I highly doubted Saladin Kuhn was here to help me with my O.W.L.s.

"It is an honor to be in the presence of so many great and noble wizards," Kuhn said in a low, crackling voice. It made me feel proud to be counted among the great and noble. I decided to pay careful attention. "Surely you have all been noticing the sad decline in wizarding traditions over the past few decades, not to mention centuries," he continued. "This, I can assure you, is directly related to the decline in wizarding bloodlines. The introduction of so many foreign lineages and concepts is muddying the formally pristine waters of the wizarding gene pool."

_ Nice metaphors_, I thought with a smirk, but Sirius wasn't there to share the joke with. To my right was sitting Narcissa. Despite her sister's presence, Sissy and I had chosen to sit together to keep one another company. Bellatrix didn't look as though she needed any help. Sissy probably hadn't even been listening, though; she leaned close to me and whispered, "I think that man over there is looking at me. You remember, he's the one from the wedding."

I looked. It was, indeed, the Best Man from Bellatrix's wedding sitting a few chairs down. He was a Malfoy, I remembered. Sissy started returning his supposed advances with a few blinks of her long, blond eyelashes. _Well_, I thought. _He's definitely looking now._

Saladin Kuhn was still talking, now discussing the methods for remedying our current predicament. "I think you all know I'm telling the truth when I say that our Lord, the Dark Lord himself, will be nothing if thorough and exact," he was saying. "If we act soon, the Mudbloods and their filth will be totally cleaned up within a few years. I can guarantee your families will experience a revival of wealth and strength which is still unimaginable to you now."

I could see a lot of heads nodding. It was true, the House of Black wasn't the only ancient bloodline suffering from the effects of over-enthusiastic inbreeding, wars, and financial struggles. Many of the old houses were living on pride alone, having lost all of their material wealth. Kuhn began describing how the Mudbloods were invading the wizarding world, using cheap tricks and governmental pity to steal jobs from their more deserving peers. I wasn't sure about all of this, but I kept listening respectfully. When he covered the part about Muggleborns, and how strange they were popping out of nowhere like that, I had to agree. It seemed almost like some sort of strange mutation, some alien copy of our own skills. I mean, how did Muggleborns even come by their magic? They didn't even know what magic was or how to use it. And it was true that Muggleborns and Mudbloods caused all sorts of trouble for the Ministry with their misunderstandings, misuses of magic, and accidental displays in front of Muggles. That wouldn't be a problem at all if Muggles just didn't give birth to magical children every now and then.

Eventually, there came a break in the meeting. I was allowed to stretch my legs and drink some Butterbeer. The blond Malfoy wizard came to sit by us. "I couldn't help but notice you," he told Narcissa with a formal nod. "Of course, Bellatrix has told me all about you." He pronounced Bellatrix's name as though he didn't exactly find her the most appealing person on the planet, but I didn't really disagree, and neither did Sissy because she grinned and held out her hand for kissing. I decided to give them some space.

Malfoy—his name was Lucius, it turned out—had only been talking to Sissy a short while before Bellatrix made her way over to them. She was wearing a stunning, slinky robe the color of blood rubies and her hair hung straight down like a black curtain around her face. "Oh good, you've found each other," she said dismissively when she spotted Malfoy. "I've something important to say to you."

From my new position a few meters away, I sat up straighter. If Bellatrix had something important going on, I ought to keep an ear open. This could be my chance to be really impressive. "Rudolphus and I, of course we're eager to serve the Dark Lord in any way we can," Bellatrix said softly. I could just hear her. I spotted Rodolphus talking to his younger brother, Rabastan a little distance away. I wondered absently if Rabastan felt the second-son pressure like I did. Bellatrix, meanwhile, pulled up a chair to make herself more comfortable. She continued, "We've not wasted a moment in offering him our services, and he's encouraged us to invite our most trusted family and friends to offer themselves as well."

Narcissa looked vaguely uneasy and Malfoy looked intrigued. I felt a little jealous. I wanted Bellatrix to consider me trustworthy, too. At that point Rodolphus and Rabastan joined the group. "I see Bella has started in on you already," Rodolphus said jovially. He was the only person I'd ever heard give Bellatrix a nickname. Somehow, she'd always seemed too regal, even as a baby. Once Sirius had called her 'Trixie' and earned himself an Unstoppable Bloody Nose. It took a week for the hex to wear off.

"Naturally, you'll earn yourselves unending glory if you serve well," Bellatrix gushed. "Not to mention bringing power and respect back to our families."

"I'd warn you against joining casually, however," Rodolphus laughed. "I don't think the Dark Lord would react well to any unfaithful servants. Why, just last week Marin Tundra found her husband's head on a pike in their backyard, and you can bet it was because he was as lousy a spy as you can imagine!"

I gulped audibly, but I was too far away for the others to notice. The whole rest of the night I was dwelling on that conversation. If any family needed its power and respect won back, it was mine. I thought of Mother and Father cowering at home, lonely and miserable. Weren't they in desperate need of a son who would stand up and do his duty? I _really_ didn't want my head on a pike, but on the other hand, I could do little tasks set out for me. I felt sure that, for my mother, I could do almost anything. As the other guests began to filter out, I approached Bellatrix, white-faced but determined.

"Oh, Reggie-weggie," she said to me, which both killed my confidence and bolstered my desire to make an impression.

"Bellatrix, I've got a very serious request," I said, trying to sound older than fourteen.

"_You_, Regulus?" Bellatrix asked, raising an eyebrow and regarding me with a mixture of indulgence and dismissal. "Now, what could you possibly need, little cousin."

Before she could laugh at me further, I blurted out, "I want to join up with you and the others. I want to be a Death Eater."


	13. No Trumpets Sound

_ You can be assured that Bellatrix was as shocked as anyone about my sudden desire to be a Death Eater. But after some consideration, she gave her approval. And thus I signed away my life to some Dark Lord I had never even met and whose beliefs I only partially shared, all for the sake of family and pride._

_I didn't know it at the time, but Sirius had done a little side-choosing of his own. I might have expected it; he had taken up with Headmaster Dumbledore and his rebels. This made me even more miserable, as it theoretically made us enemies, and I dreaded being confronted with some task which involved him. _

_ Speaking of tasks, being a Death Eater was not my cup of tea. Rather, I spent a lot of time shivering in my room or meekly sitting in the corner listening to other Death Eaters discuss their plans. I don't need to tell you, I wasn't very trusted by the others, and I was as low in the ranks as it is possible to be. On top of that, I was still in school. I tried to carry out my orders as carefully and devotedly as possible, but I didn't feel at all good about spying on the other students, secretly recording their conversations with an enchanted quill, or delivering messages to the waiting Death Eater officers. Yes, I wanted to keep my family alive, what was left of it. I wanted to bring all of us honor. But the whole thing felt so dirty and low, and I got no pleasure anymore out of seeing Bellatrix, who was officious and altogether too eager to cause pain, or Narcissa, who was more interested in her fling with Lucius Malfoy._

_ Every day I eagerly read the list of people who had been murdered. It looked just as though I were a devoted follower, happily tracking the progress of my Lord. In reality, I was mostly checking for Sirius' name. Every day that his name didn't appear, I breathed a sigh of relief and bit back tears. Every day I wondered what the hell my stupid brother was up to now. He and his friends were becoming more active in the resistance. That James, in fact, had become a prominent figure, roundly hated by all. Perhaps some of the Death Eaters were Slytherins young enough to remember his school tyranny. I was among the youngest, but some others were not so much older. I didn't really know why this James Potter was so important, since I wasn't privy to such information, but I heard him spoken of often enough to worry about my brother's connection to him. _

November 23rd, 1980.

Sirius' Flat, London

He was getting so big, my little godson. I could still remember when he was barely able to wrap his wrinkled fingers around my pinkie. Now, he was grabbing fistfuls of my hair and yanking. I knew I should have worn it back. To distract him, I bounced up and down a few times on my knee and stuck my tongue out at him, to which he shrieked in delight.

"You're not _really_ going to take him away from me, are you, Jim?" I protested, pushing my lower lip out at my best mate in my best imitation of one of Narcissa's pouts.

"Well, now you put it that way, I guess we'll just leave him here with you," came the response. "Lily was never all that fond of him anyway."

I grinned cheekily up at James, and he waggled his eyebrows back. We were joking and laughing because we were desperately trying to avoid talking about the real issues at hand. Which, unfortunately, really did include taking my little godson away. Even worse, they included taking my best mate in all the world away. I could barely keep up my façade of idle neutrality as I stared at him.

Apparently, the façade was pretty transparent anyway, because James' smile weakened a bit and he said softly, "Don't get all down now, mate. It's not like we'll never be back." He lowered himself thoughtfully down onto the sofa beside me and made a few googly-eyes at Harry. It really was shameful how much we doted on him. Even Lily said so. "It's only in talks. We haven't even told anyone else yet." Here he gave a decidedly naughty grin and leaned in closer, conspiratorially. "I'm not even supposed to have told you, you know. Dumbledore's request. But you know how I feel about that, keeping secrets from my best mate…"

"Don't," I said suddenly and harshly. It came out a lot gruffer than I meant it, and James inhaled in surprise.

He narrowed his eyes at me quizzically. "Don't what? I thought you'd be pleased. Can you think of a time I've ever held back from you?" He was all offended and throwing his nose haughtily in the air. It was an act; I'd seen it enough times to know that James acted the snobbiest when he felt the least at ease. "I even told you about that crush I had on Agnes Isbente, and boy was that a stupid phase…"

"No," I interrupted his bantering again. "I meant, don't tell anyone else about your plan. Keep it to yourself." I could see he was about to protest again, so I beat him to it. "Not _anyone_!"

That gave James pause. Harry was too little to know what was going on, but he may have noticed that I'd stopped bouncing him, and neither of us was paying him the slightest attention. He put a slimy hand—he'd been sucking on it—on my cheek and gurgled. I was hoping that, when he learned how to speak, my name would be among his first words. With a name like 'Si-ri-us' though, it was a stretch.

"Well, I wasn't going to broadcast it over the Floo Network, was I?" James muttered, poking absently at the sofa cushions.

I shook my head and gave him a pleading look. "Don't you realize there are spies, Jim?" The pouting innocence in his face aroused a desire somewhere between wanting to slap him and wanting to embrace him. After all, James' tireless acceptance and cheerful energy had been what initially drew me to him, and part of what held me all these years. And yet, I shuddered to think it might also mean his downfall. "Not just any spies. They're among us, among your closest friends. Don't you see? One of your own mates is betraying you!"

James stared at me blankly a moment, then he brought his fist down hard on the sofa's armrest. The whole sofa felt the vibration and Harry squirmed in my arms. I stroked his hair, what hair he had. It wasn't much, but it was soft and black like James' hair. James, himself, meanwhile, stood with irritation and paced a bit on the rug.

"You think I don't know that? Everybody keeps telling me…" James shook his head and came to a halt, glaring at me. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. For a moment, his brows were all drawn and he looked like he wanted to spit. Then, suddenly, his whole body just collapsed and he fell to his knees. "Everybody keeps telling me, but I just can't believe it," he said weakly. "Am I supposed to accept that one of my best mates is stabbing me in the back? You don't really think that, do you, Sirius? You don't really mean to say you think _Remus_ could be the traitor? Or Frank? Or anyone?"

His look implored me to deny my own suspicions, and, pathetically, I kept silent. What was I supposed to say to him? That I really did think our longtime mate and bosom companion, Remus, might be tempted if the enemy offered him the right thing—a cure for his curse, say? That Frank might be more interested in keeping his own young son safe than James's son? James never wanted to look at the bad in people, the truly hideous. But I had seen it face to face. I knew the evil and hatred which that hideous part could produce, had seen it in action, enough to know that it ought never to be underestimated. Yes, I knew it. I had come from its bloodline.

James took my silence as encouragement. "They'd never betray me," he stated firmly, nodding his head as though the world bent submissively to his word.

"I don't want to think so, either," I acceded. "But what if they would? Just _ what if_? _Somebody's _betraying you, isn't he?" I was getting a bit heated up now, half rising from my seat, Harry clutched too tightly in my arms. "It's only a matter of who! You only have to be wrong once to lose everything, you know! That's a chance you can't afford to take!" Blood was rushing to my cheeks and my teeth clenched involuntarily. I'd rather assume the whole bloody lot of them, every member in the damn Order, were traitors than risk losing him on a dumb move!

Harry was whining. James was bristling. I wasn't getting through to him. "_I _ could be the traitor!" I shouted, trying to drive the desperation of his situation home.

"Now that," he said with a quiet menace, "is the fucking dumbest thing you've said all day. And you know it as well as I."

There was a pause while I sat back down, defeated.

"Just… just don't tell anyone, alright?" I sighed at last. Harry was chewing on my shirt button. James was still scowling. Closing my eyes in exhaustion, I added, "I'm worried about you, James."

There was a snuffling sort of sob. I don't know if it came from Harry or James, but in a minute James was kneeling in front of me and putting his hand around my shoulder. "I know, Sirius," he said simply. He patted Harry's head. Patronizingly, he patted my head, too. I narrowed my eyes at him darkly, which made him guffaw. "You're a good dog, aren't you?" he chuckled. "Just looking out for your master."

"Keep it up and I'll bite you," I warned, but the tension had evaporated and we could laugh at each other again. Of course, it would only be a matter of time before the topic came up again, and I had confront the very real danger of losing James and Lily and Harry. But just now, just for a minute, I put it all out of my head and enjoyed just being there with them.


	14. Abandon Hope

_It was mostly by accident that I overheard Bellatrix laughing about the spy they'd acquired among James and his mates. I didn't want to think about the things they'd done to the poor bugger to make him turn. And it was sort of by accident that I found out Sirius was on the hit list, as one of the people who might be able to give up information about James if tortured. I didn't want to imagine the things they'd do to him, either. It was completely by accident that I found out James had a wife and son, which made me sad. But none of those things were what made me decide to do it._

_I'll tell you what was._

_Because I was still a student, I hadn't seen much action. Father had died, but by that time, Sirius was out of school and I had no way to contact him, so I hadn't seen him either. He didn't come to the funeral, of course. I was working harder than ever to comfort poor Mother who was completely beside herself and spent half of her time ranting or talking to my absent brother or her dead husband. And in a bout of devoted concentration for her sake, I'd drummed up a little plot among the parents of some Hufflepuffs who sat near me in class. I was pleased to pass this along, as it seemed like a pretty good find, and I'd be able to tell Mother I'd finally made an impression. _

_It took two weeks for me to hear the news. The two Hufflepuff girls were taken out during class one day. Both of their parents had been killed, brutally, so I heard. No one knew how the Death Eaters had found out, and everyone tried to comfort their distraught schoolmates, except for me. I lay in bed and heard the sound of the one girl's sobbing in my mind long after everyone else had fallen asleep. I sat in class and stared at the empty seat of the other girl—she'd fled home to her grandparents—instead of paying attention to the day's lecture._

_That's when I realized what I was doing. Killing. I was sending people to their graves, orphaning children, betraying my companions. And that's when I knew that the spy who was working on Sirius' mate, James, would end up the same way. People would die. I was part of a network of killers who would stop at nothing. Who gave a damn if that Hufflepuff girl was a mudblood? It didn't make her tears affect me any less. I wanted out._

_Of course, there was no way to do that without incurring the wrath of the Dark Lord. And there was absolutely nowhere I could go. I couldn't bear to tell anyone about what I'd done, not for anything. Just imagining confessing my crimes made my blood run cold. And none of those rebels who fought against us would dream of taking me in. _

_Except maybe one._

_I hadn't seen Sirius since his graduation in 1978, three years ago, and I afraid of what might happen. But I had to go._

December, 1980  
Sirius' Flat, London

I knocked on his door with a whole bloody lot of trepidation. And the wait was so long, I almost decided he wasn't home and turned to leave. But I didn't. I waited. And eventually he answered.

He looked different. Not really different, mind you. Just different enough to make me hesitate. His chin was dotted with dark stubble as if he hadn't shaved that morning, and his long, black hair fell free, brushing his shoulders. He had a quill in one hand, and the sleeves of his loose-fitting shirt were turned up to the elbows. Mother would have scolded him instantly, told him to clean himself up.

But most of all he just looked older. Still beautiful, and still as sharp-featured and smooth-skinned as ever. But older. Around the eyes, especially.

I didn't have to feel bad about giving him a once-over, because he started and stared shamelessly on sight of me. At last he said hoarsely, "Regulus?" He still stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame. I decided to assume he hadn't invited me in out of shock.

"I know it's a bit unexpected, but I wanted to talk to you," I began, staring at his front steps. He didn't have a welcome mat, I noticed.

"A _bit_?" he repeated incredulously. "Where the hell did you come from?" Almost immediately his brows furrowed and his eyes darkened. "If this is some bloody propaganda mission or something, you can shove it up your arse."

I looked up defiantly. "It's not," I assured him. "Actually, I just wanted to speak to you, brother to brother."

Well, that really gave him a fit. He didn't stop laughing for almost a minute. "Brother to brother," he mimicked, eyes wide with mirth and surprise. "Please, Reggie, we haven't spoken in years. We hardly ever spoke even as kids. Don't you think this is a bit late to be starting?"

He pronounced 'Reggie' with too much intonation, almost as if mocking the old childhood nickname. I was upset, but I didn't want him to see me cry, so I got angry instead. A typical Black response. "Maybe if you'd ever bothered to listen!" I exclaimed, and it got his attention. He sobered up in a second, but his frown suggested I'd hit a nerve and wasn't likely to get a warm reception.

"I just… well… I'm having some problems," I said. It was harder to get out than I had expected. And all the time I was terrified of Sirius' response, I was even more terrified that the Dark Lord might somehow get wind of my betrayal.

But Sirius, to my delight, looked concerned and motioned for me to follow him into the flat. It was sparsely decorated, but with class. Everything was modern and rather muggle-ish. Almost as if he'd wanted to make it the opposite of our elegant, old childhood home. Sirius nodded at me to sit down as he swung his legs over a chair and faced me. He put his quill down on an end table on his right.

I really wanted him to understand everything, which is why I tried to start at the beginning. It was a big mistake. "Well, Mum's been having a lot of trouble, ever since you left…"

Instantly his expression turned stormy and my brother gave me the fiercest scowl he'd ever given. "I don't want to hear about Mum," he snapped. "And I don't want to hear about her pathetic problems, or how hard she took my leaving. Getting the hell out of there was the best thing I ever did."

This was already unbearably awkward. "Right," I said weakly. "Well, I… er… I wanted to do something…" My wandering gaze fell on a baby rattle nestled near a sofa cushion across the room. I wasn't one hundred percent sure Sirius hadn't sired a child somewhere along the way, but I didn't really think so. I wondered if it belonged to his mate's kid. It bolstered my courage. Surely even my surly, proud brother cared about family, right? "I wanted to do something good for the family," I explained at last.

"So you joined the dark wizards," Sirius finished for me in a dark tone. "Yes, I heard. Bellatrix told me." Before I could question him with indignation, he nodded and went on. "She spared no expense rubbing in the fact that my baby brother was now my mortal enemy. Well, congratulations, fool! I hope you're happy!"

"But I'm not!" I stood up from my chair in a rush of swirling robes. In a fit of emotion, I went on without pausing to think. "It's not what I thought it would be. I thought I would be clever and bring lots of honor to the family, but the things they're asking me to do… I don't get any help from Bellatrix or Narcissa and Mum's just as miserable as ever. Nothing's ever changed! I feel like I'm living in fear all the time, but nothing I do makes anything get better!" I was getting close to hysterical tears. "And I just know they're going to send me on field missions as soon as they can, and I don't want to go! I'm not any good at hexes, and this spying business just makes me feel awful. I tried to make friends with the other young members, but they're not really that much like me and I always feel like an outcast! I'm afraid of the Dark Lord, and I'm afraid of getting caught! My life is miserable!"

I had to pause eventually to get breath, and to calm my shaking shoulders. To my horror, Sirius' expression had remained blank and stony throughout my entire speech. I couldn't tell if I'd gotten through to him at all. At last he asked in an odd voice, choked with concern, "Are they giving you trouble, Regulus? Are you in danger?"

I shook my head with a sigh and reclaimed my seat. "No, I'm not in danger. My job's pretty easy and safe. I don't think anyone even suspects me."

There was a tense silence. Sirius looked me straight in the eyes, his grey pupils providing the only warmth in his face. "Then what do you want?" he demanded coldly.

I wasn't sure what to say. I gave him a stare of incomprehension. Sirius' lips grew firm and grim. "Surely you didn't come all the way here just to complain to me about how things didn't go your way," he said. "So what do you want me to do?"

I really wanted to beg him to take me in, to hide me. I wanted to explain that I was through with the Death Eaters, that I had never agreed with them really and that I just wanted to be his brother and nothing more and let's end this feud! But I didn't. I didn't because it would have killed my mother. If I abandoned her and went over to Sirius' side, after all these years, she would never recover. Besides, father was dead and she was all alone with no one but her house elf to care for her. I couldn't just turn my back on her and all my family as though they didn't matter and hide in Sirius' closet for the next decade. I just couldn't. Besides, it was common knowledge that deserters who couldn't be found were often ferreted out by having their loved ones killed one by one, slowly and painfully.

It was a terrible stalemate. If I asked Sirius for help, Mother would be left defenseless. If I didn't ask, I mightmeet some horrible fate.There was only one solution I could see. Taking a deep breath, I plunged in.

"Come back and see Mum," I said. "Make up with her. Then we can all go away together, away from the Death Eaters,and put all this behind us."

His reaction, as I might have expected, was bad. In a horrible, icy voice, he rasped, "And by 'all this' I suppose you mean my life, and everything in it. You want me to come crawling back and pretend as though I don't believe in the things I've been working for all this time? And after that you want me to hide the two of you like rabbits in a bloody hole, so that you can avoid living with the consequences you've brought upon yourselves, is that it?"

I was so miserable, I couldn't even answer.

"Well, forget it, Regulus." My brother stood. "If that's what you want, you can run crying to someone else. I'm never going back to her, ever, because I'm not the least bit sorry." Now he was pointing to the door. "I asked you for help once, brother, and you turned me away and sided with her. If you're so damned attached to that hag, you can get out of my house right now!"

His voice left no room for questioning. And I didn't even feel up to it, if it had. All thought of warning Sirius about his mate's predicament and the spy fled my mind. Anything I had been going to say to prove my sincerity evaporated on my lips. Within seconds, Sirius had turned his back on me, picked up his quill, and stalked into an adjacent room, as if I were no more important or worrisome than a shadow.

And to my dishonor, I didn't stay and fight him. I didn't try to convince him otherwise. I turned around and left.


	15. All Good Things

_There was nothing to do. I had nowhere to go. I couldn't bring myself to face my Mother and admit my shameful failure and weakness. I would rather suffer all the humiliation and pain in this world than see that old look of disappointment spread across her face, than see her shake her head at me in shame and disapproval. I did the only thing left to me: I returned to the Death Eaters._

_Without Sirius' help, it was no good trying to run anywhere. They would find me and, undoubtedly, punish me. Alone, I was as good as vulture fodder. I tried not to act conspicuous around the other Death Eaters. At meetings, I made sure my mask was secure, my hood pulled far over my face, and I slouched at the back of the circle, behind the rows of my superior officers and said nothing to distinguish myself._

_I was, therefore, very surprised to hear that the Dark Lord himself had requested an audience with me. There is no way he could know about my conversation with Sirius, I assured myself, although I trembled from head to foot at the thought. And there was no avoiding the confrontation._

Dec 12th, 1980

Death Eater's Headquarters

It was the first time I had ever seen the Dark Lord close up, the only time I had ever had a personal conversation with him. In his presence, cold sweat poured down my back. He bade me lift my hood, and I reluctantly did so. Gazing into his eyes—such terrifying eyes have never been possessed by any person before or since, I am sure—I felt he must know all of my innermost secrets. Surely he had called me here to kill me.

But he uttered no such sentence. Rather, his eyes almost seemed to grow softer and he addressed me in a gentle, soothing voice. "Regulus Black," he murmured. "Are you a faithful servant to me?"

My eyes must have been round with fear, and my throat was so dry, I had to make several attempts before I could actually get the words out. "Y..yes, my Lord," I whispered.

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed. "Do you swear to do all that I command? Without fail? Without hesitation?" he hissed, although his voice never rose in volume, and seemed as slow as ever.

I couldn't look at him anymore. I closed my eyes and nodded eagerly, expecting to be engulfed by green death at any moment. In my haste to convince him of my good intentions, my voice grew loud and high, excited. "Yes, my Lord. Of course! Whatever you command!" And in that moment, I felt it was true. What task could possibly exist that I would not gladly carry out rather than face the wrath of those eyes. Anything to save my poor soul from untimely demise. With greater conviction, I cried, "I swear!"

The Dark Lord looked pleased. "In that case, I have a mission for you. It's very simple. Carry it out, and your rewards will be great." He handed me a simple, folded piece of parchment. As he dismissed me, he sighed, "Do not fail me, little serpent."

Hope filled my heart. He wasn't going to kill me. He wasn't trying to read my heart and mind and accuse me of treason. If I did what he commanded, I would be rewarded, my parents would have their honor, and my life would be saved.

In my own chambers, I unfolded the piece of parchment and read the simple instructions written there in black ink:

_Kill Sirius Black._

For a long moment I merely stared at the message without comprehension. Then, for a long time, I sat alone in my room and let my thoughts wander. Three hours later I had left the fortress and was running across the moor.

_In those hours, I went over the whole story I have just related. I thought countless times on my brother and on all of the things he had done. Of course, I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill him. They say that blood is thicker than water. And if one can't have faith in one's family, who can one have faith in? Who can one trust? No. Surely the bonds of blood are stronger than that. _

_I knew that failure to carry out this command would prove my betrayal to my Lord, and that it was useless to back down now. No excuse would pacify him, no delay would be acceptable to him. And on discovering my hesitation, he would be forced to kill me. There was only one thing to do: run away._

_The fear of being caught gave me speed and energy I wouldn't have guessed I had. I have no idea how far I ran. I rested in barns, in shadowy groves. I didn't know where I was running to, only that I had to get as far away from the Death Eaters and the Fortress, and the Dark Lord as possible. Only that I had to put all of this killing and misery and pain behind me. I would go somewhere, invent a new name, start a new life. Regulus Black and all of his suffering would be discarded. With these thoughts, I simply ran forward as long as my legs would convey me._

When the Dark Lord called me into his presence, I was greatly honored. A personal interview was a rare thing, but my Lord had spared several already for me. I knew he had great things in mind for me, and I only awaited eagerly the chance to prove my loyalty. The others would be forced to admit my superiority. They would be forced to bow before me as I sat at my Lord's right hand. They would swallow their pride and grovel before the feet of a woman.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," the Dark Lord whispered to me in his low, beautiful voice. "Are you a faithful servant to me?"

I didn't hesitate a moment. "Of course, my Lord."

His Lordship smiled. "You will follow my every command? Without fail? Without hesitation?"

"You need never doubt me," I assured him eagerly. Perhaps this was my chance. My day was finally come. With even greater excitement, I cried, "Command, Lord, and I obey! I will bring you honor!"

"I suspected as much," the Dark Lord said with a pleased hiss. "I have only a very simple mission for you, my dear, but you will be greatly rewarded if you succeed." I beamed as I accepted a folded piece of parchment from him. "Make me proud, my beautiful serpent," he said as I left him.

In the hallway, I unfolded the parchment hastily and read the simple message:

_Kill Regulus Black_.

For a moment, I was still. Then I smiled.

_I have been running now for days it seems, although it cannot possibly have been so long. I am still in the forest which is not far from the fortress. Every creaking branch and snapping twig seems to send me into the greatest panic. Any moment now the Dark Lord himself will appear and bear down on me. The darkness belongs to him, so how could these shadows and grottos possibly afford me any protection? I run still, stumbling, dizzy. I stop at a pool to drink. The water is green and rancid, but my throat is so parched that I have no choice. I guzzle down the putrid liquid. A branch snaps behind me. The sound of a footfall. I whirl around, believing my time has come. Surely my enemy approaches to capture me and return me to the Fortress, source of all of my fears. A shadow emerges from the trees, black-robed, solemn. The figure's face comes into view, touched by the sunlight that sneaks in through breaks in the leaves. Oh, thank God! It is only Bellatrix._

_FINIS._


End file.
